


What Happens When Kingsmen Fall In Love (And Neither Of Them Say It)

by TheAlphaFox



Series: Kingsmen AU- The Lovelorn Misadventures Of Guinevere (OC) and Galahad [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Ass-Kicking, Because Who's Perfect Anyway?, British Comedy, Declarations Of Love, Eggsy And Roxy Both Got In, F/M, Family History, Gen, Gentleman Harry Hart, Happy Ending, Harry Hart Lives, He Thinks He's Too Old For Her, Hurt Harry Hart, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Love Stories, Major Character Injury, Merlin is a Little Shit, Mission Reports, Nobody is Dead, Not a Mary-Sue, Post-Killing Joke, Spies & Secret Agents, Surprises, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Undercover Missions, You Don't Need Perfection When Somebody Loves Your Flaws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlphaFox/pseuds/TheAlphaFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Chloe Peacock-Cowen, but the Kingsmen know me as Guinevere. I am 25 years old, and I live alone in a huge London safe house with my corgi, Bear (the same one I was told to shoot, all those years ago). I remain the only Kingsman to ever score 100% on my entry test, both physical and mental. I am the first female Kingsman.</p>
<p>And I am hopelessly in love with Harry Hart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time Waits For No Kingsman

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, cubs! So, this is something I wrote for myself (for once!) which I thought you might be interested in reading. I'll keep it updated often and I hope you enjoy it!

The day I kissed Harry Hart, in the bottom of a gondola, in sun drenched Venice, it was only ever a mission.

I didn't intend to start a chain reaction of events so catastrophic that even I couldn't have foreseen them.

I didn't intend to fall even more in love with him.

But I did.

\---  
As much as I like America, I'm not all too keen on the Big Apple from this angle, I muse. My tie flaps gently in the wind as I try not to snag my suit on any loose stones, and assess my current position. The gold signet ring glistens on my right little finger, subtle and a deadly reminder of my Kingsman status.

Oh, and the fact I've got a target to kill.

"Which window, Merlin?" I ask through gritted teeth, carefully edging my way across the outside windowsill, and trying not to look down at the snail's-pace traffic below. Hundreds of yellow taxis, milling pedestrians, and they all look like ants. 23 stories below, to be exact. "Third on your left." Merlin's voice says dryly over my glasses. "Though, if you listened to my briefings, you'd know that. You're a pain in the arse, you know that?"  
"Right, thank you." I say briskly. "You're the one who recommended me for this bloody job in the first place, you've only got yourself to blame." I take a sharp breath and hop across a three foot gap to find a new foothold, digging my fingers into the unforgiving cement. "How's the new radar system working for you?" he continues, sounding a bit more engaged. Of course he would be, there's tech involved. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Well, if I could look at my wrist to fiddle with my watch, it'd be great. Unfortunately, my hands are otherwise engaged in keeping me attached to this wall."  
"Hmm. Maybe I should look into putting it directly through your glasses, then, perhaps as a voice-activated feed..."  
"Is he in his office, Merlin?" I interrupt impatiently. I really don't have time for this when I have a man to take down, and I'm expected back in London by 9pm for a debriefing with Arthur. "Sorry, yes. Devere is sitting at his desk and that personal-assistant woman he keeps around to take advantage of is sitting just outside his office door, typing away. If you're quick and quiet enough you can get in and out without alerting her."

"Great." I pause outside the window in question and gather my thoughts, feeling my body tense like a coiled spring. I do so love my job. "I won't be talking much for the next two and a half minutes, but if you'd like to stay and watch how the real professionals do it, you're more than welcome."  
"Hmm." Merlin makes a non-committal noise just above my left ear, and I smile to myself. Excellent, an audience.

With a final deep breath, I grasp hold of the outside window frame and swing my whole body round the edge, smashing through the glass feet first with my gleaming Oxfords. Devere turns around instantly, true fear etched into his face, but I've slammed my signet ring into his temple before he can even blink, watching him spasm in his leather desk chair as 50,000 volts course through him. I stand there for a long moment, broken glass cascading from my shoulders. "You could have done that more quietly." a smug Scottish voice points out from nowhere. I sigh. "Everyone's a critic, aren't they?"

"Mr Devere?" a new voice calls from outside the door. She sounds young, this Lyndsey girl. I only know her face from intelligence pictures of her being Devere's little eager-to-please shadow at public functions, a short little blonde with a lot to prove and an eager expression. I almost feel sorry for her. Or I would do if she wasn't about to find me standing over her unconscious employer. "Shit." I mutter. "Merlin? Now what?"

His voice is calm. "Pull out the adjustment knob of your watch until it clicks, and then force the exposed lever back against the watch face."  
"Seems like a waste of a watch."  
"Sir?" Lyndsey calls again.

Not having the time to come up with a less expensive plan, I destroy my watch just as Merlin asks. The space vacated by the tiny snapped lever reveals a flat surface with tiny holes in it, like a microphone. It's about 1cm in diameter, scarcely noticeable inside my poor mutilated timepiece. "Speak into it." Merlin prompts me. "Tell her it's alright."

"Everything's fine, Lyndsey!" I call. I'll admit I'm (begrudgingly) impressed, as my voice comes out as a deep American boom, flavoured with arrogance and a hint of riches. It's Devere to a tee. "Just a bird flew into the window, is all."  
"Alright, well... If you need anything, Sir, let me know." She doesn't sound convinced that she shouldn't come in.  
"Sure thing. And, Lyndsey, I'm about to make an important phone call, so no disturbances for at least half an hour, alright?"  
"Yes, Sir." She sounds more reassured now, I think- I hope. Silence falls. I wait for a few seconds, ready to tranquillise her if she walks through the office door, but it's still peaceful. I smirk. "Admit it, Guinevere. " Merlin says, sounding unbearably pleased with himself. "I just saved your arse."  
"I could've handled that." I argue, smiling to myself because I know he's right. Merlin and I are great friends, have been for years, but we both maintain the other is a mere nuisance. It works well for us.

"Now, then, dispose of Devere."  
"Seems a waste." I reply. "I mean, sure, he's an egotistical arsehole who's financing terrorists in seven countries and building a minor drug empire across half of Africa, but hey- everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

There's a very, very silent moment now, as Merlin seems to be contemplating just leaving me to my own stupid sense of humour. Eventually, he says "There's a small dart inside the lining of the cigarette case I gave you yesterday. It's coated in a poison that shuts down the organs one by one in 30 seconds and is completely undetectable by any form of post-humous testing. Cause of death: heart attack. Nobody's any the wiser." I smile darkly, and delve into my inside suit pocket for the case. "Check you out, Merlin! Somebody's had some free time recently." 

As I plunge the tiny needle into Devere's jugular without a second thought, my mind wanders to returning home and even my next mission. "So I've got 12 hours from now-" I check the wall clock in Devere's office, ignoring my own ruined watch, "- to get home for my debriefing with Arthur. And then what? Is there another mission lined up for me yet?"  
"Ah, yes." Merlin says, and his voice takes on a worrying note of amusement that I don't like much. "What?" I ask warily, as I watch Devere's breathing stutter. "You're going to Venice."  
"That's... Actually not bad. I like Italy."  
"Funny, that's pretty much what Galahad said too."

I freeze, my breath stuck halfway down my throat, just as Devere's chest ceases to rise. "What? He's going too?" I can almost feel Merlin's smirk from across the pond. "Yes, you're both on this mission. You'll fly out together in two days time, stay in a rather nice hotel- Percival found it for you, I can't take the credit- and you'll be protecting the Cuban Ambassador. We've received intel that someone's going to make an attempt on his life whilst he's in Venice for meetings with the Italian Government. So you'll be shadowing him for a fortnight, making sure he's alright and scouting for any potential killers."  
"Right..." I say slowly, walking silently over to the window. Only a Kingsman can remain noiseless when walking over shards of broken glass in stiff leather Oxfords.

"Oh, and before I forget," Merlin adds as I step out onto the window ledge, my mind's eye already picturing the fire escape I passed on my way around the building, "You'll be satisfied working with Galahad, won't you? He seemed excited to get to do this mission with you, somehow... You don't often get stationed together, do you?"  
"No, we don't. Of course I'll be fine, why wouldn't I?" I snap.  
"Nice job in there, Guinevere." Merlin seamlessly ignores me and shuts me up with a very effective compliment. "Get back to London now for your debriefing- and when you arrive, duck into my office to drop in your watch and your glasses for me. I'll see what tinkering I can do before you and Galahad leave for Venice."

"Thank you. One last thing-"  
He sounds exasperated now. I wonder what I'm keeping him from. "What is it?"  
"Who's our new recruit?"  
"We've taken on two on a trial basis, it was too close to call."  
"Which two?"  
"Eggsy and Roxy. Eggsy failed to shoot his dog, but Roxy's a bit jittery. She's got too many fears- heights, for example... I don't know if she's got what it takes. We'll see. Arthur said that if they both show promise he'll consider taking them both on."  
"Brilliant." I say, and I mean it. I really like Eggsy, he's hilarious and a very good friend of mine. And Roxy is a fierce ally too. We have a good time together.

"I'll congratulate them when I get back, then. And, Merlin- thanks for the help. Couldn't have done it without you."  
"Remember to tell me that after every mission, or my little ego might cry a bit."  
I have to laugh at the deadly serious tone of his Scottish brogue. "Yes, Sir. See you soon, then, Merlin."  
"Safe journey." His voice is warm now that the danger is past, like I usually know it. This is the voice of the man who engages me in an epic prank war around Kingsman HQ and makes me coffee whenever I agree to test another new gadget in the field for him.

I find myself thinking only of the upcoming Venice mission, as I clamber back around the building. I dream of canals and the smell of baking bread as I climb down the fire escape, hail a cab and go straight to the airport. My mind replays images of brewing coffee and poetically ancient town streets the entire flight home. I'm an old romantic at heart.

It won't be difficult to keep the Cuban ambassador safe. It won't be hard to spend time in Italy (for once, it's actually a really good place to be assigned- I mean, the time before America, I was freezing my arse off in Siberia for a month). I think the hard part will be spending a fortnight with Galahad. Maybe even in the next hotel room. Constantly standing by his side, smelling his cologne, watching the sun catch his hair...

Well, when you're this in love with someone's eyes, and you get told you can spend 14 whole days with them... You tend to get a bit nervous. And excited.

Who am I kidding? I can't wait.


	2. To Say It Or Not To Say It, That Is My Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! So, this is just a little insight into Chloe and Harry pretending they don't feel anything more than friendship for each other... I mean, really, even Merlin and Eggsy can see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this! Next chapter (to be uploaded at a later date) will be Chloe and Harry jetting off to Venice- but who knows if their mission will be a success? And will they gain anything else out there?
> 
> You'll just have to wait and see ;)

The debriefing with Arthur is boring at best. I explain to him, in all the detail I can remember, my mission to take out Devere. Making sure to add in a glowing reference to Merlin's voice changer watch thingy, I also keep my wrist under the table so Arthur can't see how mutilated my poor Bremont timepiece is.

After over two hours of tedious exchanges and recounting different events, with my watch set firmly at quarter past lever, I am finally free to wander down the corridor and see who's still here. Straightening my (now glass-free) suit over my shoulders, I pause outside the door I'm looking for.

The Tech room is a huge expanse of desks and benches under bright white lights, all efficiency and sharp angles and machinery parts scattered about. It's basically Merlin's natural habitat.

"Guess who?" I call loudly, sauntering in with a grin on my face. I've definitely missed Kingsman HQ, really I have- there's no place like home.

"Guinevere!" Eggsy greets me from the other end of the room, where he's fiddling with a pile of lighter grenades, tossing them from hand to hand. "Good to 'ave you back."

Merlin glances up briefly from the tiny piece of some circuit board he's got under a microscope, and smiles at me. "I agree. Stick your watch and your glasses on my desk, please, I'll look at them later." I oblige, and look around the otherwise empty room, trying not to make it obvious that I'm hoping for someone in particular. By the looks on their faces, I'm fooling nobody.

"So, Eggsy, congratulations on getting in!" I say. "What's your rank now?"  
"I don't really 'ave one." he admits, smirking shamelessly. "Roxy's officially Lancelot, I'm just 'ere 'cause Arthur thinks she's jittery. 'Opefully I'll get a rank soon."  
"I look forward to that day." I say with a fond smile, turning to face Merlin's desk. I'm struggling to hide the disappointment I'm feeling that HE's not here...

As I strip off my poor Bremont and lay it on the pile of paperwork awaiting Merlin's attention, I lose myself in a brief daydream of gondolas and pizza and canals...

"Well, you've made a fucking mess of that." says a very amused voice behind me. I jump, and turn to see Galahad- Harry- standing right behind me with a cup of tea in either hand, staring at my watch with a mixture of concern and interest. "Hey, blame Merlin. He tinkered with it." I reply, glaring at said Tech wizard as he fiddles with his circuitry. Galahad chuckles, a deep rumble, almost like a lion-sized house cat. I know I'm home the second I hear it.

"Welcome back, Guinevere." he says, handing me the teacup in his right hand with no small degree of fondness. I feel a blush creeping across my cheeks. Eggsy busies himself with the lighters, checking each one with slightly exaggerated care, and Merlin buries his face in the microscope eyepiece. 

"Thank you."  
"And I take it I need a new alias now, too, I can't go by Devere when that arse was such a stain on the name."  
"What, stealing his surname isn't working for you anymore?" I tease.  
"Well, when I picked it I didn't realise there was a terrorist-funding rich bastard already using it, if you catch my drift." I have to giggle at his rather indignant expression. "It's not exactly a rare surname, you could probably still get away with using it."  
"No, maybe it's time for a change, anyway." He gazes at me for a moment so intently that I get the feeling I'm being undressed, and my cheeks grow a little warmer.

"Venice, then." he continues, as I take a sip from the cup gratefully. "Thank you. Yes... At least it's not bloody Siberia. Remind me never to piss Arthur off again just before he assigns a scope mission somewhere cold." Galahad agrees unequivocally, like my word is somehow gospel. "There is that, I suppose- and of course I will. We can't have you freezing to death twice, now." 

I nod, and take a moment to study his perfectly liquid brown eyes, so fluid and inviting. "So... Protecting the Cuban ambassador whilst he's in talks with Italy's government over the funding crisis sounds simple enough. What's our cover story this time, Mr Not-Devere?"  
"As far as I know, it's up to us. Merlin has chosen our passport names, and we're booked into the hotel under the same names, but other than that we can be whatever the situation calls for." He gives me a look at that moment, unexpectedly foreboding for someone so formal, and I feel myself beginning to melt like the chocolate swirling in his irises. "Right. What are our names, Merlin? And if you've called me Gwen again, I don't care how funny you thought it was the first time, I swear that circuit board will disappear up your-"

He doesn't even look up. "-Galahad, you're as of now Ross Jacob Wycombe, a property magnate from Kent. Guinevere, you're Tabitha Hart, a housewife, also Kent. You can manoeuvre as a couple if it makes it easier to be seen together, particularly when travelling, as I have booked you in seats next to each other on the flights and your hotel rooms in Venice are next to each other. You'll be travelling by commercial airline this time, so as not to arouse any unwelcome attention from anyone who could be watching. Invisibility is key on this mission." Galahad nods along, but I'm so shocked I'm barely hearing it. "Guinevere?" Merlin prompts me. "Any questions?"  
"Yes: what's the hotel called, and why is my surname Hart?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant and jesting whilst simultaneously narrowing my eyes at him. Galahad merely raises an eyebrow and masterfully turns his attention to his tea. 

"First name I thought of, and it's called The Gondolier." Merlin dismisses me in a blasé fashion. "Now, off you go to pack, and I'll try and get that mess you've left on my desk fixed before you set off. Early flight, you two, 4:30am take off."  
"Wonderful." Galahad says, as sarcastically as a polite gentleman can possibly be. "I will see you in approximately five hours, then, Guinevere. Goodnight, Eggsy, Merlin."  
"Night, Harry." Eggsy pipes up, tossing another lighter onto a pile he's accumulated on the table in front of him. "Goodnight." Merlin says, lifting his circuit board up to the light for clarity.

I wait until Galahad's left the room before I stalk over to Merlin's table and glare at him viciously. "Can you stop trying to melt a hole through my skull?" he says, finally tearing his eyes off the tech to look at me. "Hart?" I hiss angrily. "That's not funny, Merlin. There's a reason I haven't told him about... Well, he clearly doesn't feel the same, something is holding him back, so stop making it awkward! It's hard enough trying to hide this as it is."  
"Italy's a romantic country, innit, who knows?" Eggsy calls from the other end of the room. I shake my head at them both and sigh weakly. "Arseholes, the pair of you. I'm going to pack."  
"Laters." Eggsy says, grinning at me with those bright eye shining mischievously. "Have a quick rest, Guinevere, there's a long fortnight ahead." Merlin adds. I incline my head and smile as best I can, hiding my pain at the words 'something is holding him back'. Whatever that something is, it's far stronger than I am. "Night, boys."

I dump my empty teacup on Merlin's desk in a final act of protest against his teasing, and leave.

When I walk out of the Tech Office, it's just about midnight, and I can already tell that I'm going to get no sleep at all.

I can't help thinking, Venice, here I come.

N.B: It really doesn't help my mood that I can hear Eggsy talking to Merlin as I close the door.

"'Ey, we really need to just lock those two in a cupboard someplace."  
"They're too stubborn, it wouldn't work."  
"But Harry likes her, doesn't he? Any idiot could see that."

I can't stand to hear the answer, so I simply turn and stride off down the corridor, towards the lift to the Kingsman shop and my way home, shining leather Oxfords gleaming in the artificial light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, cubs! Please leave a comment letting me know what you thought, it means the world to this vixen, really it does.
> 
> And also... I thought I'd made the name 'Devere' up, but it's an alias Harry actually uses in the film. I guess my brain retained it and I forgot where from! Anyway, I've tried to write my way out of that little blunder in this chapter. Apologies.
> 
> Love you all, and I will update soon! :)


	3. The Most Familiar Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... Chloe and Harry have aliases, a long journey together, a suspicious man watching their every move... And a hell of a lot of sexual tension. What could possibly go wrong? :)
> 
> P.S: Merlin is a smug arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! I really hope you like this! Next chapter will be negotiating the perils of adjoining hotel rooms and the horrors of not being able to wear anything Saville Row for a fortnight. Enjoy! :)

We take the taxi ride to the airport separately, both enjoying a last moment of privacy before spending a fortnight in close proximity. My cab driver isn't exactly talkative, but who would be at 3 in the morning? I keep my phone close, and my suitcase by my feet, feeling vulnerable in a strange way without my suit. 

I can't exactly wear it, I can't blend in wearing a perfectly tailored Saville Row masterpiece... But I don't feel like a Kingsman without it. I've opted instead for loose-fitting brown trousers and a pale white blouse, tan leather ankle boots and a string of pearls around my neck. My hair falls in loose mahogany ringlets past my shoulders, a bit wild. 

The only thing I haven't compromised on is my glasses- I want to be able to keep Merlin informed.

I don't even see Galahad whilst I'm getting through check-in, and airport security (the glasses are specially designed so as not to set anything off, it's a breeze), so it's almost a surprise to turn the corner into the boarding area and see him sitting there, reading his newspaper as if butter wouldn't melt. I swallow hard, pretend I don't know him because it seems like the right thing to do, and take the seat directly opposite him in a sheer bloody-minded act of stubbornness. Our knees are barely six feet apart but we keep making every effort to avoid acknowledging each other, so I take out a battered old copy of Macbeth and start to make my way though it again.

I can't resist sneaking one glance at him, at his unbelievably annoying face. It shouldn't be legal, being that attractive. He's not wearing his suit either, instead dressed in some formal tan trousers and a loose-fitting burgundy button down, looking for all the world like a hero from some old romantic film. A monogrammed leather bag sits at his feet, with the initials R. J. W. I'm impressed he managed to have it made so quickly to fit with his new alias. He's also wearing his glasses, and they glint at me as I approach like the greeting of an old friend.

His eyes flicker up from the headlines to grasp mine in the flickering embers of a dying fire, smouldering brown and stunning. I blink once, slowly and deliberately, refusing to be flustered, before dropping my eyes to my own reading material pointedly.

I lose myself in Shakespeare for ten minutes until we are allowed to board, and then the next ten minutes fly by in a whirl of luggage and staircases and runways. It's only when I'm actually walking up the aisle of the plane, carry-on in tow, that I start to relax a little.

"Tabitha, fancy seeing you here!" an overly British voice from behind me exclaims. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the enthusiasm and turn with a beaming smile. "Oh, Ross! Two whole years now- well! Isn't it a small world!"

"Are you two serious?" Merlin's voice hisses above my ear, so quietly I could almost have imagined it. "Stop playing around and just sit down!"

I allow Galahad to take my carry-on and stow it in the overhead locker, as the other passengers obliviously take their seats. We've gained no attention whatsoever, much to my relief. 

"Would you like the window seat?" he asks quietly, closing the locker with a snap. I glance at him in surprise. "You're the one in 11A, Ross- I'm 11B."  
"I am aware, Tabitha. However, you like sitting by the window and therefore I am offering to switch seats."  
"Well... Thank you." I say, amazed. I've always loved sitting by the window when I travel, gazing out and watching the world go by, but I didn't realise Galahad would have noticed. Maybe he pays more attention than I give him credit. Merlin chuckles, and I make a mental note to punch him. In the face. 

Although... He did book the third seat on the plane row for us, so at least we're enjoying a little bit of privacy.

We take our seats, fastening our seatbelts, and settle down to wait for takeoff. I close my eyes, exhausted, and tilt my head back against my headrest. 

That is, until I feel a hand against my thigh. 

I try not to jump, really I do, but I can't seem to help it. It's so unexpected, so NOT Galahad, that I'm taken aback. My eyes shoot open to stare at him in amazement. His own face remains neutral, almost passive, as he returns the look.

I feel his fingers moving against my leg, and I try to focus on that because it's probably important in some way. It's electrical, sparks flying, and I'm sure even he can feel it. I don't know what to think anymore. His index finger in particular seems to be repeating a small pattern on my thigh, constantly tracing it. Two curves, set against a sharp line...

Oh. 

He's drawing a letter 'B'.

I nod imperceptibly, and wait for him to continue. Slowly, patiently, Galahad sends me a message though the thin material of my trousers.

BEHINDUSWATCHING

I swallow hard, and dare to glance back, pretending to seek out an air hostess. There, three rows back, is a tall man dressed entirely in black, with some intimidating thorny bramble tattoos around his neck. He catches my eye and scowls, so I flash him a winning housewife-y smile (I hope) and carry on sweeping the other passengers with my eyes. Honestly, he couldn't scream 'danger' more unless he wore an "I'm A Convict" branded shirt.

"Merlin, run a search please." I mutter, covering it with a cough. He doesn't reply, but all I can hear is the sound of Scottish fingers flying over a keyboard, so I know he's right on it.

When I think I've looked distracted enough, I slide back down into my seat and look at Galahad. He mouths "See him?", in the most elegant way I've ever seen. His lips scarcely move. I nod once.  
"Apparently it's not just us, then." I say jovially, making sure my eyes betray the true meaning behind my statement. "Oh?" he asks me, back in character. I giggle, high-pitched and affected. "Bill and Ben are already out there, and Margaret flies out tomorrow. It's going to be so much fun!" 

"Bill and Ben?" the Scotsman scoffs. I sigh. "Best I could think of. Well?" "No matches on his face." Merlin informs me in a low voice. "He could have had plastic surgery, or be wearing an elaborate disguise. If you can give me anything more to go on I can try again?"  
"I've got no idea, and I don't fancy getting close enough to find out." I reply, giving up on finding out who our tail is.

Galahad and I fall into companionable silence then, as the plane taxis around and then begins to speed down the runway. We're both so tired, it seems natural to just doze off for the next few hours and enjoy what little down time we have.

I can't pinpoint exactly when I fall asleep, but I know he does first, because it's the lullaby of his soothing, rumbling breaths that serenade me out of consciousness.

By the time the stewardesses announce imminent landing, I jolt awake- with my face pressed against Galahad's shoulder, and his hand resting gently between my shoulder blades. Bugger, I think desperately, you've got too close already! Instantly cursing myself, I sit bolt upright, wondering at how I managed to fall asleep whilst contorted over an arm rest. His shirt was soft, radiating body heat, and it smelt of him... HE smelt of him. Fresh tea and pine and leather-bound old papers and a crisp aftershave that reminds me of warmth in a scent... I forget about his grip on me, knocking his arm, and he stirs.

Merlin seems to be smirking even at this distance. "Chemical attraction, you can't keep away from each other."  
"Sorry, Ross, I didn't mean to disturb you." I say a little more sharply than necessary, watching Galahad stir whilst I pointedly ignore Merlin's every word.

I hear muffled laughter on the other end of the line that I can recognise fairly easily. Smiling dangerously, I add Eggsy and Roxy to my hit list.

Galahad's eyes open slowly, with dignity, as he stretches himself into a more upright position. "Are we here?" he asks dozily. I have to smile fondly at the messy curls his hair has been reduced to. "Yes, we're here. Welcome to Italy!" I say, gesturing out of the plane window at the blazing sunshine on the runway. He smiles softly, and looks at me meaningfully for at least the millionth time today. But I get it this time.

He's warning me to watch my back, to stay alert, because someone's watching us and we're probably in trouble. I can only hope the Cuban ambassador isn't in any imminent danger, because I fully intend to sleep in a proper bed before I do anything else.

All I can seem to think right now, however, is that I'm in Italy with Galahad for 14 days, and I've just slept against his lovely welcoming chest for god only knows how long. 

Mystery aside, I can already tell this is going to be an interesting mission to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like that- please leave comment to let me know what you think, and a kudos is very much appreciated. Pressing that little button will make a certain vixen very happy.
> 
> Anyhow, I love you all, and I will update soon! :)


	4. The Knights Beneath The Armour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Chloe really just needs to be honest with herself, and Harry. Maybe Harry should take the initiative.
> 
> But somehow I doubt either of them are going to risk it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs!
> 
> I'm making a real effort to update every day, so I hope you like this! 
> 
> Poor Kingsmen. I'm sure they'll be happy together some day...

By the time we have landed, hurried through the bustling Arrivals lounge, carefully lost the angry-looking man who was following us, and taken a taxi to the hotel, I'm pretty much exhausted. Galahad and I take the whole journey in almost uncomfortable silence- there are no words. From the moment he touched me on that plane, regardless of the reason, something changed: I think we can both feel it. I don't know how we're going to work anymore, or if we've ruined what little bond we could have had. The thought is so awful I have to seriously talk myself out of calling Merlin and asking him to send me a replacement, so I can run away forever.

It's not anything new, Galahad and I struggling for words. The first time I met him, after I passed my entrance tests, he shook my hand and said "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Guinevere," in the most beautifully welcoming tone of voice I'd ever heard. I merely said the feeling was mutual, and we stared each other in the eye for a few seconds. That was all we said to each other for three weeks and five days, constantly smiling at each other across rooms but not finding anything important to say.

I'm very much done with my musings by the time we get to our hotel. It really is lovely, a rickety old building at the very edge of the canal with ornate wooden paneling and a friendly receptionist/porter/chef/owner named Carlo, whose great great grandfather was a gondolier (he apparently loves that story). In moments he tweaks my cheeks fondly as if I'm a long lost sister, compliments Galahad's shirt, and whisks our bags up to our adjacent rooms, singing a cheerful tune that I can't understand. It's impressive to say the least.

I can't say I trust the stairs, they creak more than the stupid hover-board contraption Merlin was wasting metal on last week (though knowing him, he'll have got it operational by the time we get back). The spiral case is poetic, though, I think as I follow Galahad up the stairs. He did offer to let me go first but I jokingly asked him to precede and test the steps for me. Much to my surprise, he wordlessly walked ahead.

I'm still trying to work out where I stand when I open a miniature, warped wooden door and step into a fairytale. My room is beautiful- a real four poster bed with white silk sheets and almost opaque cream drapes, a wooden dressing table with strings of tiny pearls hung across the little mirror, and an artistic window seat with the perfect view of Venice. I even have a minuscule ensuite with quite possibly the tiniest bath in existence. I don't know what Galahad's room looks like, but if it's anything like this, I would bet he's feeling at home too. 

I spend half an hour unpacking my clothes and the many gadgets Merlin threw at me earlier this morning, the window thrown open to let in the smell of baking bread (there's a family-run bakers across the street, I feel like I'm in a stereotypical movie). I jump violently when there's a tentative knock at the door. "Come in?" I reply, my mind straying to the open suitcase on my bed, and the pistol hidden in the lining. Has the tail we picked up found us already? I thought we lost him well with a well-fired hallucinogenic dart to the bare arm. Really... the things we Kingsmen can get past airport security... It's a good thing we're the good guys.

Turns out I'm wrong on all counts. Galahad opens the door like an apology, as if he's waiting for me to tell him to leave. I can't help smiling, because it's him, it's always been him, and I love how rumpled and dishevelled he looks after all the travelling. He seems encouraged by my expression, and steps inside. "Hello." he says easily, daring a small smile himself. "Galahad." I greet him pleasantly. His face falls, just the tiniest amount, and I instantly want to destroy whatever's made that perfect smile go away. "What?" I ask, a little too sharply.

His voice is an effort to cover something up. "No matter."  
"Please tell me."  
He sighs, and says in a low voice, "I can't remember the last time you called me Harry. It just seems... Overly formal, to use our titles privately. Like you're trying to put too much distance between us." 

It suddenly strikes me that even when I'm thinking about him, I call him Galahad. I cast my mind back, amazed, and realise that I can't remember calling him Harry either. I'm sure I must have at some point... "I'm sorry." I say honestly. "I didn't realise I was doing it."  
"Then how about a truce?" he offers, looking painfully hopeful. "I will call you Chloe (if I may), you call me Harry (except when we're being other people of course), and we can just try to enjoy whatever time we've got that won't be spent trailing after the Cuban ambassador in the blazing heat." I smile, he smiles, and I kid myself that I can almost feel something mending between us. Like a boundary that we'd crossed, a bridge we'd burned, is being reconstructed. I'm glad of it. "Deal."

"Your room is far larger than mine." he says with the tiniest hint of a pout. I have to laugh. "Well, I'm apparently Carlo's favourite, unless that escaped your notice?" Harry chuckles too.  
"No accounting for taste."  
"Hey!" I protest, walking over to him and gently poking his shoulder. He gazes down at me from his considerable height (and I'm not exactly short!). 

"Well." he says, after a pause. "I must go and finish unpacking. Carlo informed me that he's making us Italian style pasta for dinner in two hours, so that's the limit on time." I nod gratefully. "Sounds incredible. I'll see you then?"  
"Absolutely."

The moment he's gone, I dash over to my case and fish my glasses out of a side pocket. Luckily, nobody was listening. Merlin in particular needs no more ammunition. 

I hear a faint buzz, and delve even deeper for my phone. "EGGSY", it proclaims. Grinning, I hit 'accept' and say "Hey, soldier. How goes it?"  
"Guinevere!" He sounds really excited. "All good 'ere, 'ow's Venice?"  
"Good, thank you- hotel's beautiful."  
"And 'arry?"  
"What about Harry?"  
"... You never call 'im that."  
"We've had this conversation, Eggsy, I'm not interested in having it again."  
"So you've been chattin' then?"  
"We've just travelled all the way from London to Venice together, of course we have!"  
"'Ave you told 'im you love 'im yet?"  
"No! And shush, the walls have ears. Particularly the digital wall between this conversation and a certain Scottish tech wizard."  
"Fair point. Oh, Arthur's callin' for me, better go. 'Ave fun, and I'll ring ya soon. Right?"  
"Right. Speak soon, Eggsy."  
"Love ya, Gwennie."  
"Love you too. I'll update you with any news."  
"Of 'arry or the ambassador?"  
"Both. Bye now."

When I hang up, I'm blushing so fiercely I decide to go and have a quick bath before dinner. There's a few tiny bottles of bath soap on the dresser that smell incredible, so I run myself a very deep tub and go to lock myself away for an hour. 

I can't believe I almost let something as trivial as an awkward moment make me push Harry away. Never again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked that! Please comment with what you thought, it makes me instantly happy and I'll continue to update often if I know more of you like it. Also, leaving kudos makes me smile :)
> 
> Love you all, and I'll update again very soon!


	5. Mermaids And Sinking Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! This is the last part I'm going to write about Day One (unless anyone particularly wants to hear about Chloe and Harry eating spaghetti by candlelight?) 
> 
> I'm probably happiest with this chapter overall, so I hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps she should... Perhaps she shouldn't...
> 
> Perhaps Harry should just man up and tell her he loves her.

I'm only just relaxing into my bath when I hear Harry's voice in my bedroom, almost hesitant and very apologetic. "Chloe?"  
"Harry?" I call back, instantly sinking a few inches so that I'm completely covered by the bubbles and I'm only visible from the neck up. "I'm in the bathroom. What's wrong?"  
"My bathroom has no mirror. I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I would be exceptionally grateful if you would loan me the use of yours."

I sigh to myself, and stare out of the window at the old-world Italian skyline for a moment before I reply. "Yes, of course. Come in, I'm decent."  
Harry's voice grows warmer and more reassured. I try to convince myself that it's the heat of the water and nothing else. "I warn you, I look rather ridiculous." he says, closer to the bathroom door, before opening it and walking through.

Good god, I think weakly. He's a vision in his fitted, quilted scarlet bathrobe and navy cord pyjama bottoms, his damp hair curling around his fallen angel face. His jaw is the funny bit, I assume, he's already lathered it with shaving gel- the thick white foam highlighting his beautiful cheekbones and bright eyes. He glances at me for a long moment, our eyes meet, and then he averts his gaze like a true gentleman. I think he's blushing a little beneath all that lather.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were..." He looks absolutely contrite and almost ashamed of himself, gesturing towards the bathtub. He has a razor in one hand and a flannel in the other. "Don't worry about it." I reply easily, sounding a lot more sure than I feel. "It's no problem. Go ahead."

I tilt my head back against the edge of the tub with a contented sigh, closing my eyes and allowing the heat to dance across my skin. I hear Harry turn to the sink, and the mirror above it, putting his razor down on the edge of the basin with a soft metallic clink. We are silent for a full minute, satisfied with our companionship, before I chance a slight opening of my eyes.

Through my lashes, I watch as he expertly follows the line of his jaw with the razor, flicking the foam into the sink after every stroke to reveal soft, smooth skin. I reassure myself that blushing scarlet can be attributed to the bath, but I can't help opening my eyes fully to just watch him shave. After another minute, he catches my eye in the mirror, and gives me a small smile. "What's so interesting?" he asks, pushing his mouth to one side to flatten his cheek out more. I return the smile a little more shyly than I'd like. "Nothing, just... You're... Er. I've never watched a man shaving before, I didn't realise how skilled it could look." 

Harry chuckles deeply, the rumbling sound making me feel completely safe and at ease. Instantly, I'm fine, and I feel like I could talk to him about anything I wanted. "Well, I'd never seen someone accurately shoot a tranquilliser through a Duty Free shop window before today, so I suppose we're both learning something." I can't help glowing at that. It WAS a pretty good shot. 

"Why, thank you. Give me a second." Realising I still need to swill the soap from my hair, I take a deep breath and slide under the bubbles, closing my eyes. I wait there for a full minute and a half, before popping my head back up through the foam with a small gasp for air. By the time I surface, Harry is finished with the razor, and is cleaning his face with the flannel. I shake my head a little to clear my ears, and settle back down to watching him.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asks gently, as he completes his task and swills the sink with some cold water. "No mermaids today, sadly." I reply before I can even think about what I've said. Mermaids? Really? What am I even doing? "That's a shame." he says, smiling. "Maybe tomorrow?"  
"You'll have to come back and help me find them." I say, and then suddenly realise that I've just basically invited Harry Hart to share my bath. SHIT. To his credit, he merely laughs again. "Perhaps I will." He turns to face me properly and gestures to his face. "Did I miss a spot?"  
"No, you're as debonair as ever." I say, a little encouraged by his seemingly unflustered comments. Maybe I should say something. Should I? Perhaps I... No.

"I bet you say that to all the Kingsmen." he says teasingly. "No." I reply simply. "Just you." 

Damn you, Galahad. Damn you and your genuinely flattered expression. He looks just like Merlin did last month when I gave him a piece of high tech switchboard I'd "confiscated" on a mission to a surveillance centre. Thrilled, almost a little hesitant to accept, wanting to say more than words could ever convey. Sometimes I wonder if there's something he isn't telling me. "That's rather nice to know." he says cheerfully. "Now, I'll leave you to it so you can enjoy your bath in peace."  
"I'll see you at dinner, then." I offer weakly, watching the sunlight stream through the window and glisten on his damp skin. Bloody hell.

"I look forward to it. Thank you again for the use of the mirror." With one last bright grin, he walks out and leaves me shell-shocked in the bath, wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do for the next 13 days. If I'm completely smitten after this long, how on earth am I supposed to pretend I don't want to have him as my own for another minute, let alone a week and a half!

When I step out of the bubbles and wrap myself in a towel, I glance up at the steamy mirror once, and suddenly find myself laughing helplessly. 

He's drawn an (admittedly terrible) mermaid on the mirror in leftover foam.


	6. Strange Memories And Unwelcome Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the previous mission goes completely out the window, I think Chloe and Harry are somehow going to have a lot more fun.
> 
> This just went from protecting a diplomat to taking Richmond Valentine down.
> 
> And the Kingsmen have been waiting to do that for a long, LONG time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! I really hope you like this- I'm sure Richmond is coming as a bit of a surprise to some of you, but he's always even the villain of the piece and I was longing to write about him. Here goes!

It's still playing on my mind when I wake up the next morning, how Harry seems to have opened up to me a little more, how wonderful it felt to have that conversation, like an old married couple.... though that is just far too much to hope for. I almost feel sinful for imagining it, being Harry's. I know it won't happen, I should just accept it.

But I can't.

I remember taxi rides in silence and burgundy shirts and awkward plane exchanges and muttering to the side of my head. I remember falling asleep and the aroma of freshly brewed tea and the feeling of warm bubble bath against my skin. I remember foam mermaids and fresh pasta and candles, and the one moment when his leg brushed mine under the table and it was all perfect.

By the time I'm finished remembering, I'm up and dressed, and he's knocking on the door with a delicious-smelling pastry in his hands. "I thought you might like some breakfast, and the bakers was open when I woke up." he says by way of charming explanation, offering me the still-warm cake. I take it, my resolve utterly melting like the butter inside it, and thank him. He's so thoughtful, so kind, so perfect...

I really could get used to Harry Hart waiting at my door.

We both look like tourists today, dressed in plain clothes, trying to blend in. I've got a loose fitting blue tunic and grey leggings, Harry is rocking a pair of khakis and a white shirt.

He glances at me, as I take a bite of the pastry and the beautiful taste of warm vanilla oozes over my tongue. "I avoided cinnamon."  
"Wow."  
"What?"  
"You... know quite a lot... about me."  
"I'm hardly setting up cameras in your bathroom, Chloe. I just recalled that you don't like cinnamon." He sounds nonchalantly amused, in a kind of sheepish way. I've got him there.  
"No, well, you were right. I don't."

He smiles at me, shaking off his momentary embarrassment. "Ready? You can eat whilst we walk, if that's agreeable to you."  
"Of course." I reply, barely able to stop myself from shoving the whole cake into my mouth at once. It tastes utterly amazing.

I sling a rucksack over my shoulder and follow him down the stairs, calling a cheerful but hasty "Good morning!" to Carlo as he sweeps the six foot square dining room that we ate in yesterday, and then Harry and I are out on the streets of Italy together. 

I perhaps shouldn't be as excited as I am.

It's not difficult to keep up with him- his legs are longer than mine but I take larger strides so we're pretty balanced. It's just... Nice. 

We're on our way to a plaza about a 10 minute walk away, where there's some official building or another, and the Cuban Ambassador is going to be there in half an hour. Quite how we're planning to get in, I don't know, but Harry assured me yesterday that he has a plan... So I'm rolling with it.

The canal whispers to our side and the warm sun beats down upon us. After a pleasant few minutes of silence, Harry speaks. "The Cuban Ambassador, then, what do we know about him? I may have accidentally on purpose skipped the briefing in order to pack."  
"I did notice I was the only one there to listen to Merlin's bitching... it's rather conspicuous when there's only supposed to be two of you there in the first place."  
"Terribly sorry about leaving you alone to face the monster like that."  
"No problem. Anyway, Pablo D'Elvar. 51 years old, no wife but at least five girlfriends currently on the go. Twelve children, all of whom are supported through his (widely unknown) links to the drugs trade in Cuba."  
"And yet we don't want him to die." Harry says, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think we're in the wrong line of work, Chloe. Assassinating him ourselves seems preferable." I smile wanly. "Yes, well, he's done a lot of good for the country as well. They're more stable with his guidance."  
"Friends and allies?"  
"They all have them, don't they? A few government arseholes around the world. He's had dinner at Downing Street, with our PM, twice in the last year. He's a definite social climber... However, I would say that his most notable contact would be Richmond Valentine."  
"Valentine?" Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Yes, that Valentine." I confirm. He's well known to us. "I think Percival's still tracking him as we speak. He's in New York giving a talk about how global warming is affecting his company, Arthur wasn't happy about it. Apparently he's got some big agenda."

There's suddenly a savoury smell of sausages and cooking beef from a delicatessen, the windows full of every kind of meat imaginable. Mmm.

"He's planning something?" Harry says grimly, narrowing his lovely brown eyes. "Speculation. It's looking that way, but until we know for sure... We have to let his preparations run their course." Harry doesn't look very impressed. 

"Is the plaza left or right?" he asks eventually, as we come to a crossroads. I don't have time to answer before an annoyingly familiar voice says "Right, Harry, and you'd know that if you ever listened to me."  
"Merlin?" I mutter, trying not to move my lips. "I'm not wearing my glasses... How can I hear you?"  
"I took the liberty of implanting a small chip into the hair clips you packed. Judging by the way you pin back your hair when you're pressed on time, I figured that this would always be close enough to your ear to give you a decent audio."  
"Not bad." I concede. Harry turns to me, sun glinting off his glasses. "I take it you can hear him too, then?"  
"Unfortunately." 

"Right it is." Harry says in a forced jovial manner, as we stride off down streets that are rapidly looking a bit more modern. And when we get closer, I start to hear cheering. "Merlin?"  
"There's probably a few people gathered to see the diplomat arrive in a shiny black car, you know, a lot of these people won't ever have seen a foreign politician in the flesh before."  
"Lucky them."

So when we turn the corner, and see exactly how packed the plaza is, Harry and I stop dead. It's a sea of bodies, warm and sticky and jammed. Not my favourite thing.

A car is pulling up at the front doors of an impressive white stone building, a sleek black affair with white-wall tyres. When the door opens and the diplomat steps out, complete with a beautifully dark woman on his arm, Harry says exactly what I'm thinking.

"Chloe... That's Valentine. That's... Not D'Elvar. And that woman with him... She's known to us too, isn't she?"  
"Yes. Fuck ME. Valentine must have got to him somehow!" I gasp quietly, frowning. "What's a businessman want with some talks like this anyway? He won't gain anything, he'll just rub shoulders with some rich guys and some politicians..."

"That's exactly what he wants." Merlin's voice says urgently in my ear, and Harry's too, by the way he stiffens. "World leaders are starting to disappear. Politicians, diplomats, celebrities, sports stars. Even royalty. This is Valentine's plan-"

"-Galahad, Guinevere." Arthur's voice cutting off Merlin so abruptly is a tad unnerving. "Your new mission is to find out what Valentine is doing here and to try and link him to something concrete."  
"D'Elvar?" Harry asks stiffly.  
"Reported missing this morning." comes Arthur's grim reply. I take a deep breath. "Yes, Sir. We're on it, Arthur."  
"Good luck." he and Merlin echo, as the line crackles and goes dead.

I turn to face Harry, and we stare at each other with a new, sharp sense of purpose. "What's the plan now?"  
"Run back to the hotel and get changed. I'm killing nobody without my suit on, it isn't right," I say, smiling softly to myself in anticipation. "And then, Harry, we're going in."

From the look on his face, he's looking forward to taking Valentine down as much as I am.

Yet another thing we share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked that, cubs! 
> 
> Please leave a comment telling me what you thought, and I'll see where this goes! More updates coming very soon.
> 
> I love you all, and I'll see you around!


	7. I Don't Know What I Want Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is a genuine arse sometimes. He's had a bad day at work, he's sick of two lovelorn Kingsmen moaning on obliviously at him.. So he can't get all too upset when he accidentally enlightens them.
> 
> Or, in other words, Chloe and Harry finally finding out there's something other than friendship here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! I really hope you like this!
> 
> This is the moment you've been waiting for... Merlin finally (accidentally) letting it slip to Chloe that Harry has been talking about her all the time... But how will she take it?

Harry and I stare at Valentine for a very long moment, across the plaza and over the heads of hundreds of excited visitors. He's wearing a horrifically gaudy yellow SnapBack that just does not go with his tuxedo at all, and he's wearing brogues. BROGUES. Just to add insult to neon injury.

The woman, Gazelle (pretentiously named if ever a person was), is wearing yet another black top and black skirt ensemble to at least partially conceal her bladed legs. Her hair shines in the light as she and Valentine disappear up the steps into the building, waving to the crowd arrogantly. I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise in annoyance. 

When they're safely ushered inside by a severe-looking security guard, I turn to Harry with a grim smile and a new sense of urgency. "Race you."

Without giving him any time at all to react, I turn and sprint as hard as I can back the way we came. My feet thud on the uneven streets as I speed around the corner, my tunic fluttering against my waist. My hair streams back too, as I hurtle along, dodging people and the odd cat as I weave around and try to beat Harry back to the hotel.

There are cries in Italian that I can't understand, a few excitable shouts from some children playing in the street, an old man raising his cup of coffee at me in some kind of salute to younger, more athletic days. I grin wildly as I pass him.

I can hear Harry's footsteps thudding rapidly but still quietly behind me, though I don't dare turn around and check how close he is. My breath comes in sharp pants now, lungs beginning to feel rather shredded, but I force myself on. I have to win. I don't know why, but some part of me needs to be the first to get there.

"What exactly are you hoping to gain from this?" Merlin's voice asks conversationally from somewhere below my ear, providing an interesting new noise in my symphony of gasps for air. Apparently my hair clip has slipped rather drastically, then. I don't answer, because I don't actually know. "Shall I tell you what you're hoping to gain?" Merlin asks, and then continues without waiting for an answer. "His respect, his trust and his smile. That's what you want. And you not telling him that is DRIVING ME BLOODY MAD." 

"Shut up." I say sharply, careering sharply round the final bend in the pathway like a champion greyhound at the races. I can see The Gondolier, ramshackle and homely, standing at the canal edge. I force myself to pick up speed I didn't even know I had- I'm gaining a few really odd and almost frightened looks- as I rush to the door and wrench it open. "Yes!" I gasp, breathing heavily, standing in the doorway like some kind of mob member. Carlo looks up from his cleaning of the hallway floor in utter shock. "Mamma Mia!" he gasps, clutching at his heart dramatically. "My poor heart! What is the big hurry, mia bella?"

"Sorry. Just... Proving a... Point..." I say, trying to drag some extra oxygen into my lungs. I've barely got my breath back when a set of arms envelop me from behind, scaring me half to death.

I freeze, wondering who on earth this is that has embraced me so, before I recognise the sweet scent of cologne and freshly brewed tea. "Harry?" I say incredulously. "Congratulations." he says, releasing me and sounding slightly flustered. He's also breathing hard. "On what?" I ask, bewildered, my cheeks flushing a bright red. Harry Hart just hugged me. It's so out of character, I'm beginning to think he's done it for a reason, playing a part. But Carlo knows we're not together, he thinks we're just travelling as friends, so there'd be no need to act... Does this mean he's just embraced me because he genuinely wanted to?

"What do you mean?" Harry breathes.  
I'm rather too blunt, and I see him actually wince, just the tiniest bit. "What was that for? That hug?"  
"Winning the race?"

I know from the moment I hear Merlin's voice that I'm not supposed to be listening to that remark, that he's accidentally let my transmitter in on the feed, and I feel the words burn as they settle into my skin. "Harry, if that's the best excuse you've got for hugging her, you're losing your mind. Why not just ask her if you can hold her, or is that too much of an affront to your modern gentleman's sensibilities?" 

Affront. Modern gentleman. Excuse.

Does that mean I'm just an annoyance to him? Some silly little girl posing a distraction from the mission?

"I'm going to get changed." I say abruptly, turning and almost running up the stairs, trying to keep my voice steady as the fear of rejection overwhelms me. Carlo looks surprised as I pass him, but I don't look back until I reach the landing. Then, and only then, do I allow myself one glance at the doorway. 

Harry is standing there, a little dishevelled and flushed, looking totally confused and hurt. I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do. Do I go down and have it out with him?

I back away a few steps, round the stairwell, so that I am standing outside our room doors and out of his eyeline. I can hear Carlo's concerned mumble and Harry's now reassuring tones, assuring him it's just a small argument. I wish that was true.

"Shit." Merlin's voice says distantly, as if he's tried to muffle the feed with his hand or something. I just shake my head. "So he's been talking to you, and I've been talking to you, and you've been egging us both on?"  
"It's not like that-"  
My voice becomes a low, angry hiss. "Do you have ANY IDEA how embarrassing you have made this? How difficult I will find it to face him again? I love him, Merlin! And now I've lost him!"  
"So? You never even had him! You were too scared to take a chance and just tell him you cared! You're letting life pass you by and all the time he-" he almost shouts back, losing his temper in his own robotic way.  
"Fuck you." I say coldly, tearing the hair grips out of my loose hair and throwing them down the stairwell with a soft clattering bounce. I wonder if Harry has seen them. I can't see him anymore from here.

I can't help wondering what he was going to say, though. All the time Harry has been... What?

Screw this. I know full well what I need. 

I turn my back, trying not to cry, and dash into my bedroom. Once I'm in there, I wedge a chair under the doorknob in the vain hope that he won't just push it out of the way, and I let the tears fall.

As the warm water courses down my face, unchecked and bitter, I go to my suitcase and pull out my beautiful, bespoke Kingsman suit. Every second I'm putting it on and folding away my civilian clothes, I remind myself of my professionalism and my duty. I have to take Valentine down, with or without Harry.

So when I grab my phone, I'm not ringing Eggsy as Guinevere. I'm ringing as Chloe.

"'Ello?"  
"Eggsy?"  
"Chloe! Good ta- 'old on, you cryin'?"  
"... Yeah."  
"What's up?" His voice becomes deeply concerned and I find myself just wanting a hug now. Painfully ironic.  
"Harry hugged me."  
"What? Isn't that what ya wanted?"  
"No... Yes... Oh, god, Eggsy, I don't even know anymore. He's been talking to Merlin about me and I've been talking to Merlin about him and I think he's just been egging us both on. I don't know what to believe. I don't know if he's humouring me but every now and again I catch him looking at me and his eyes are shining and... Oh, I don't know."  
"Believe in your own 'eart then."  
"What?"  
"If ya love 'im, it doesn't matter what Merlin's told 'im or what 'e thinks. It's all about what ya tell 'im."  
"You think I should tell him?"  
"I think ya should focus on the mission first, but when ya get a minute, just pull 'im aside and tell 'im how ya feel."  
"Okay, but how do I face him now?"  
"Just tell 'im your sorry and ya overreacted 'cause it took ya by surprise. 'E'll understand."  
"You think so?"  
"I know so. Trust Aunty Eggsy."  
"Oh, I love you. Thank you."  
"No worries, I love ya too. Now- stop cryin', get out there, knock 'Arry dead and kick Valentine up the arse from me. Yeah?"  
"Yeah. Thanks again, Eggsy."  
"Any time. Speak soon."  
"Bye now."

I stare at myself in the mirror as I put the phone down. Taking a few deep breaths, I wipe my eyes, shoulder my responsibilities, and open the door.

Harry's standing there, looking miserable, my hair grips in his hand. What a predicable modern gentleman. "Chloe," he starts, as soon as he sees me. "I am so sorry, I-"  
"Harry, it's fine. I'm sorry, I overreacted completely- you just took me by surprise, is all. Next time you want to hug me, just ask. I don't bite."

He looks so relieved I think I want to start crying again. Maybe I do matter to him after all?

"I wouldn't say no to one now, actually." I say shyly, glancing down at the floorboards. Instantly, he steps forwards and envelops me in strong, suit-clad arms that give me a beautiful warmth and smell of safety. I love him so much, I decide in seconds. And I will tell him. Today. I'm going to do it. 

"Merlin apologised profusely, in case you're interested." he supplies above my head. I frown, my pleasant planning falling down around my ears. "I don't want to talk about Merlin. Maybe I'll be calm enough to talk to him tomorrow, but right now I'd rather just be in Venice, taking down a horrendous crook with you."  
"Me exclusively?" His face lights up.  
"You exclusively." I confirm.

He smiles at me, bright and brave and strong, all glinting glasses and Kingsman suit and metallic Bremont shimmering at his wrist. "Then by all means, Chloe, let's go and get him."

Carlo's voice drifts cautiously up the stairs, making both of us chuckle. "Have you crazy English people sorted out your mad arguments yet?"  
"Yes, Carlo," I call back. "I think so."

And when I look at Harry, I decide that there's no point in the sun shining on me anymore. He's still putting it in the shade.

That's it, I tell myself. By the time I go to bed tonight, I'll have told Harry Hart that I love him, and I'll have got a definitive answer in return.

The slight butterflies in my stomach seem to have grown into gigantic moths of death.

I can only hope that's not foreshadowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked that, cubs! Please comment, I absolutely love seeing what you think about my writing, and I will absolutely reply.
> 
> Next chapter... Chloe actually TELLING Harry that she loves him. Stand by for fireworks.
> 
> It need hardly be said, but go nowhere. It's coming soon! :)


	8. Kissing Harry Hart In A Gondola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took me so long, cubs- I've had a pretty bad week. But anyway, I really hope it's worth the wait. Please comment and leave kudos, and I'll try to cheer up a bit :)

"With the best will in the world, Harry- right now, Valentine is the priority." I say hastily and faux-casually, as I take the steps two at a time, my Oxfords tapping against the unsteady wood with a satisfying rhythm. 

"We need to talk later, then." Harry says behind me, following me with no doubt effortless grace. "Of course." I try not to sound afraid, even though I know I do. I shake off the feeling quickly.

"We have to get back to the plaza. Now. Who knows what Valentine could be up to?"  
"The plaza?" Carlo calls from underneath the stairs, where he's cleaning out the cupboard. I have to smile a little at his introduction to our conversation. "You won't get anywhere near to it, mia bella... We have an ambassador coming to see us and the local people are all very excited. They will all turn out to see the visitor."  
"You're not joking, Carlo! That's where we came from." I explain, pausing at the doorway and straightening my tie.

He glances up just in time to see Harry reach the bottom of the stairs, putting us both in his eye-line. From where he's standing, the light would be directly behind us, giving us both a kind of glow, maybe a halo effect. I wonder if anyone sees us as angels? 

"Suits..." he says, almost dreamily, putting down his polishing cloth with an absent smile. "What are you off to do, dressed so well- and the same?"  
"Ah, just a private function, I'm afraid. Nothing exciting." Harry lies smoothly. I smile, going along with it. It's the easiest thing to do. "Come along, then, Chloe." he says, almost a little impatiently. "Off we go."

I don't bother replying and just step outside once more, into a haze of Venetian old-world charm. "Down there." Harry says, nodding towards a small alleyway beside the hotel. "It'll cut out a bit of the journey and hopefully take us away from all the crowds for a while, so we can make a little progress."  
"Excellent idea."

We walk quickly in silence for a while, the elegant carved buildings and quiet streets making it easy to just say nothing and watch the world go by. I find myself wondering what exactly I'm going to say later.

I'm sorry I lost my mind so much when you hugged me, Harry, but I love you.

I'm sorry you got saddled with me on this mission, Harry, since Eggsy would probably have been more use- but I love you.

I want to stay by your side forever, you complete moron, because I love you.

Suddenly, out the corner of my eye, I see a man walking along behind us, with a leather briefcase in his left hand. He wears a badly cut suit and scuffed brogues- I do so hate to act my class, but what a bloody peasant- looking like a businessman on a "conference trip" with his mistress. He seems familiar somehow.

That's when I get it. 

"Harry." I murmur quietly. He doesn't stop walking or even acknowledge me but I know I have his attention. "Directly behind us, there's a security guard from the plaza. Only he's wearing a horrific suit with a Luger in the hidden pocket."  
"Oh, bollocks." Harry mutters, glancing back, no doubt viewing our assailant with the reflection feature in his glasses. For posterity, I slip my hair pins back into my hair, although I make no effort to talk to Merlin. Bastard.

"Not a security guard." Harry picks up the pace a little. "Definitely not." I hiss, just as we exit the alleyway and find ourselves on a narrow canal-side street, completely devoid of life. "I suppose everyone really is at the plaza, then." I observe, quietly reaching into my pocket and pulling out my gun. "Hmm." Harry murmurs. "No civilian casualties. Good."

We glance behind us simultaneously, both fully aware of the man's presence. 

What a bloody day it's been!

We look just at the wrong time, or the right, depending on how you view it. I don't see the assassin raise his gun until I've met his eye, and then realised it is pointing straight at Harry. In an instant, acting purely on muscle memory and instinct, I shoot a bullet at a perfect angle and throw myself in front of Harry. All I hear is a "BANG" of gunfire, mine or his, I don't know. I just hold on to my Galahad and almost subconsciously create a human shield with myself. Behind us, the gunman swears filthily, and I hear the noise of something heavy hitting the water. Good, he's dropped his gun. I do hope I hit him.

The force I move with takes me by surprise as I try to stop, throwing myself forwards and into Harry. It's strange, in a way, how it feels. It's like something I've experienced before, but I don't remember what. My heart flutters in my chest like a butterfly trapped inside a child's curious hands. 

I close my eyes as we both plunge off the edge of the pathway, into the canal, and brace myself for cold water. Instead, we thud into some hard and unforgiving surface, groaning quietly.

After a moment to recollect myself, I open my eyes, and realise that I've fallen pretty much on top of him, in the bottom of a gondola. The gondolier looks scandalised, and then pales at the sight of my gun. I pay no attention.

Harry looks up at me, my hair falling around my face, and looks a little surprised. As well he might, I suppose.  
"Sorry." I say gently, flexing my legs and then my arms as I lay there to check I'm intact. "Hurt?"  
"No." he replies, mimicking my little stretches. "Yourself?"  
"Fine. I can't believe I overbalanced that much, though... I miscalculated that jump horrendously." He gives me an entirely wondering look, then, and I realise this is the moment. "Yes... You were prepared to take a bullet for me, weren't you?"

"People do that kind of thing when they're in love." I say, completely giving up on any kind of pretences. He smiles, the sunlight reflecting off the bottom of the boat really giving him a halo now, and I have to smile as well. My god.

When it happens, it's like some cliché movie. I glance down at his lips, he glances at mine, and then without warning I'm ducking my head down to him and they meet in a moment of such perfection that I don't know how either of us ever survived without it. He tastes of whiskey and kisses like a gentleman, with just a hint of roughness, all caressing and claiming and the odd nip of my lower lip with those pristine teeth. I'm actually doing it, I think weakly, as I press against his chest and his hands flow up and down my back like the canal we float upon. I'm kissing Harry Hart, in Venice, in a fucking gondola! 

I honestly think that nothing could ever end this beautiful moment... Until a great force hits the other end of the gondola and sets us to rocking violently. The gondolier cries out as he is pushed off and into the canal. I pull away, Harry leans upwards, and we both stare at the security guard in the bad suit, our erstwhile pursuer and now gondolier, apparently.

He pulls a length of wire out of his sleeve, deadly and sharp. The sun catches slightly rusty patches on it, which I can only hope aren't blood from previous victims. How unsanitary.

It's Harry who speaks first, eyes narrowing at the criminal. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it was rude to interrupt, you Neanderthal?"  
"Nah, she didn't." he sneers in reply.

Harry and I get to our feet and get out our weapons in one fluid movement, gracefully manoeuvring around each other on the narrow boat like two halves of a whole. "Alas. Manners maketh man." Harry says slowly, tapping at his watch face idly. I grin, a wild, swollen-lipped grin. The delinquent begins to look a little apprehensive.

"Well said, Galahad," I say lazily. "Let us teach you what that means."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that, cubs! Please comment and let me know what you thought, I'm always interested to know what my readers think :) I love you all, and I'll see you soon!


	9. Trust Issues Might Just Save Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far from the romantic day after their first kiss that they may have liked, Chloe and Harry have to contend with a new visitor and the continuation of their mission. Sigh.
> 
> Hey, they're used to problems now, though, I'm sure they'll survive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, cubs, you may have noticed I've changed all the chapter titles. This is because I've been writing a number of chapters per day of Chloe and Harry's trip to Venice, and it no longer seemed plausible to name the chapters Day One and so on. They're still exactly the same chapters, just different names :)
> 
> Enjoy this new one!

"Chloe." Harry says in a quiet aside.  
"Hmm?"  
"We'll have to talk about this properly at some point, but for now, it'd give me great pleasure to dispatch this lout. Can I count on your support?"  
I smile vindictively. "Always."

The security guard- though really, who knows what he is- gives us a tense look and raises his wire readily.

BANG.

Harry and I both dodge a bullet that never comes, dropping to our knees, and staring up at our replacement gondolier in readiness for an attack. His mouth opens but no sound comes out, his eyes blown wide, as blood suddenly wells through the material of his shirt. With a barely audible groan, he slumps forwards onto the gondola and sets it rocking again. 

There's a brief moment of gazing at each other in surprise, before glancing up at the canal side and the well-tailored figure currently waving childishly at us. "Can we get back to the mission now? You ain't exactly done much work so far." Eggsy says, grinning, a pistol still clenched in his outstretched hand. 

"Oh, what the hell are you doing here?" I ask sharply, glancing at it as though it- and he- have done me some great personal wrong. "Don' mention it, I know, I just saved your life," he says with a sarcastically cheeky tone, as we start to pass him on the now free-floating boat. I turn my head as we do, to see his smug face grinning at me, and groan resignedly. "What happened to Percival tailing Valentine?"

He starts walking to keep up with the gondola, as casually as anything. Unbelievable. "Did a shit job, so Arthur asked me to come an' take over."  
"What are we here for, then? Are we being sent back to HQ?" Harry interjects briskly, frowning against the glare of the sun and the sheer cheek of his protégée. "Nah, nice try, 'arry. You're 'ere to find out what 'e's up to, I'm 'ere to keep track of 'im."  
"And you shot our gondolier because...?"  
"Look at 'im! That wire don't look fun to play with, if you get my meanin'."  
"Quite." Harry says, with an effort. "I believe we're starting to rapidly attract attention- that gunshot was the last straw- so we'd better get back to the plaza before we're arrested."

"Good idea." Merlin's voice says out of the blue, I assume to all of us. Well, this day just gets better and better.

"And you can fuck off as well!" I hiss angrily, fiddling with my hair to try and get the grips away from my ears. "Easy there, Guinevere. I'm just here to direct you. I promise I won't congratulate you two on finally getting your heads out of your arses and doing something about the god damn sexual tension that's been plaguing HQ for months."  
"Do you know how many different ways I could kill you with your stapler, Merlin? I can think of at least 7." My voice is a promise. Harry shoots me an almost amused look. 

Merlin's tone becomes rapidly more apologetic. "Take that left- you'll avoid any civilians."  
"Thanks a bunch." I say acidly, leaping deftly out of the gondola and up onto the canal side. Harry follows, somewhat less gracefully, I flatter myself. 

"So." Eggsy says, taking the left at a speed-walk. "You two, eh?" Harry opens his mouth to say something, but before I can stop myself, I'm cutting in with a sharp "-we'll figure that out later."  
"I agree." Harry says, frowning at Eggsy. He obligingly shuts his mouth and we hurry to the plaza, slipping past people who are hurrying to the origin of the gunshot sound. With any luck, the plaza will be emptier now, then.

When we finally arrive, Eggsy frowns. It's completely empty, as if everyone has been ordered to leave- even the windows on the buildings are all shuttered and bolted. There are no security guards, no civilians, not even a stray cat or bird. Nothing.

"Now what?" he asks. I glance around quickly. "Let's look for side doors and fire escapes."  
"What, not usin' the front door?"  
"What do you want to do, you imbecile, knock on the front door and say 'Sorry to bother you, but can you tell us your evil plan?', hoping you won't be murdered for your troubles?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the indignant look on his protégée's face. "Eggsy, take the left side. Chloe, take the right. I'll stand guard here and wait for signs of life."

We both nod in response and go our separate ways. I walk slowly and stealthily down an alleyway next to the impressive white stone building, scanning for any feasible way in. It's not very inspiring, just a narrow brick path with a drainage gutter, a single bin and a load of ivy climbing the neighbouring house.

Aha.

Briefly wondering if I should contact Harry and Eggsy, I decide Merlin can at the very least do that for me, and just survey the ivy. It looks unreassuringly old, but it'll have to do.

I curl my fingers into it and pull as hard as I can. It shifts every so slightly but the thick, woody stems hold their positions relatively well. Swallowing hard, I reach as high as I can for a decent handhold and then brace my whole weight against it, lifting my feet off the ground.

When I'm satisfied I'm not about to plummet to my death, I start to scale the house carefully and quickly, digging the toes of my Oxfords into the brick. They're going to be so scuffed... Harry'll have a fit. 

That's the least of my worries, though, because I'm almost at the top when the ivy starts to shift beneath my hands. The tiny alley floor, all uneven bricks and broken leg potential, is at least 10 unappealing feet below me. Ah, shit. The word is out of my mouth before I can even think about it, and I suddenly realise how much I need him after all. Maybe I've been too harsh on my old friend. "Merlin?" The reply is simple, plain and almost a little panicked. "REACH."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that, cubs! Please comment below with thoughts and ideas, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it. It makes me feel all warm and happy :)
> 
> I'll try and update soon, but I'm ever so busy at the moment, so it may take me a little while. I promise it won't be too long!
> 
> I love you all, cubs, and stay safe <3


	10. Grow Old(er) With Me (I'd Love To And I Love You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I think it's high time Chloe and Harry cleared the air and were honest with each other.
> 
> Hands up who thinks this is going to go tits-up some how? X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this, cubs! Honestly, Chloe really needs to realise there no 'I' in team... Though there IS an 'us' in ridiculous! X

I do as I'm told, letting go of one precious handhold to throw myself upwards, catching onto the edge of the roof with a gasp of strain. The brick tears into my fingers as I pull myself slowly, laboriously up and onto the blissfully stable surface. Below me, a few ivy leaves flutter to the ground like a stark reminder of how much more broken I could have ended up.

I glance across the alleyway, at the building I've been trying to get to all along, and notice the open window directly across and to my left. "Don't you bloody dare. Wait for Galahad and Eggsy." Merlin warns me sternly, as I size up the leap. "Seriously, I've just saved you from smashing your head in, and what are you going to do now?"  
"Jump." I say simply, stepping off the edge of the roof.

The only sound is Merlin's sharp intake of breath against my ear as I twist sharply in midair, throwing my body effortlessly through the window and land in an expensive-looking bathroom without a sound. Glancing around, I take in the majestic marble interior and the obvious gold gilt on the door handle, and realise that I've walked into something bigger than I expected. "Do you have a fucking death wish? I said to wait!" Merlin hisses. I sigh deeply, and hope Harry hasn't noticed that I've thrown myself into the enemy's building yet. That'll be one hell of a conversation. "Oh, Merlin, for god's sakes, stop bitching and scope the building for me."

There's a silent moment when I think he may have turned off my communications, but then his voice is saying "All clear." (albeit sounding strangled), and I'm off. 

I slink out of the room, into the red-carpeted corridor, and walk briskly, I can hear the occasional murmur as I pass closed doors, and the last thing I need is for someone to walk out and catch me. I take a left, then a right, then another right, trying to find anything to link Valentine to criminality. I pad through an empty office, scouring the desk for evidence, taking care to create no imprint of myself on the place. Taking off my tie, I bind my hand tightly and pin it with my tiepin, to ensure I don't leave bloodstains behind. 

I slip in and out of the rooms, avoiding the odd official, when I suddenly hear a very sharp, very deadly voice in my ear. "What in god's bollocking name do you think you're doing?"  
"Guinevere, this ain't cool." a slightly more common accent adds in annoyance.  
"Harry, Eggsy..." I murmur indignantly. "I'm completing the mission!"  
Oh, dear, is Harry livid. "Without us!"  
"That ain't an excuse."  
"You weren't there!"  
"Guys, I've found an entrance round my side, I'm comin' in. See ya soon, Guinevere."  
"Right, Eggsy, just be careful." I say.

"Chloe." Harry says in a deadly tone.  
"Harry, it was a spur of the moment-"  
"-I was 200 metres away, all it would have taken was a call!"  
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"  
"Sorry doesn't cut it if you get hurt and I'm not there with you!" he snaps.

There's silence over the channel for a moment, a strange crackle, and then I speak. "This is bloody ridiculous, isn't it?"  
When he replies, he is weary. "Yes."  
"Let's talk about it, then, right now. Let's clear the air."  
"Eggsy, block out our feed for a minute. Merlin can keep you updated."  
"Awright. Get it sorted, you two."

"Just concentrate on the mission." Harry warns me, as Eggsy's reply fades away.  
"Whatever you say. Just... Tell me how you feel."

And so, as I'm dancing through this place like a shadow cast upon the wall, I listen to what he has to say. For the first time ever, I truly hear him. 

"I feel powerless. Powerless to stop you doing whatever the hell you like, powerless to protect you when you inevitably get into trouble, and powerless to stop loving you. Because I do love you, Chloe. A great deal. And the only reason I never said anything is because I'm fast approaching my 52nd birthday and you are just 25. I didn't want to tie you down, you're young and sweet and very beautiful- some very lucky man will make an honest woman of you one day, you'll have his children, and I'll shake his hand as long as he makes you happy."

"Who says I want that?" I say softly, slipping into a wardrobe as an elderly cleaning lady blunders into the conference room I'm searching, and begins to dust. 

"What?" Harry asks, sounding almost hopeful. "Who says I want children, and a husband my age, and to be a free spirit forevermore? Who says I don't have a happy life without children, who says I can't love a man twice my age, who says I can't be free with him by my side?"  
"Society?" 

Even to him, I can tell the argument sounds weak. "Fuck society. I love you, Harry. I'm tired of pretending I don't and this is getting to be one ridiculous saga of lovelorn idiots. Either tell me you love me, now, and we can work out what we want together, or tell me you aren't interested and we can just be friends."  
"... Of course I love you too, and if you're agreeable to it, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you."  
"I'd like nothing more than to grow old with you, Galahad, you idiot." I murmur, unable to contain my joy.

Suddenly, the feed crackles again, and a cold female voice is saying "Sickeningly sweet, but you won't have the chance." In an instant, the wardrobe door is wrenched open, forcing me to squint in the sudden light, and Gazelle is standing in front of me on her bladed legs, signal tracking device settled in her palm, primed and ready to attack. 

Oh, hell. I'm very glad that Harry and Eggsy aren't here now.

Looks like it's just me, her and a very scared looking cleaning lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, and kudos is always appreciated.
> 
> I promise to update soon, I love you all, and I'll see you later! X


	11. Burn With Me (It Feels Oddly Good To Hurt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe may love Harry, but she never listens to him. Or Merlin. Or indeed Arthur.
> 
> Plus, Eggsy is a terrible influence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this, cubs! This one is a little bit sad, but it gets better, promise xx
> 
> So I've got maybe 5 more chapters planned, and then a sequel to this story will happen at some point int the future, but right now I'm doing so many exams that updates are taking me forever and I'm in no rush to start anything new. I'll update this as soon as foxily possible! :)

In an instant, I find myself flying into the long table that sits in the middle of the room, taking the full force of the impact against the solid wood across my stomach, and then landing awkwardly on my side. The cleaning lady throws up her hands in horror, and hurries from the room, squealing in Italian. 

"Chloe, get ready for a fight. Things are about to get ugly." Merlin says urgently in my ear. The direct order sets the adrenaline roaring through my veins, an unpleasant contrast to the burning pain of the bruises, no doubt blossoming across my stomach.

'Ugly' is the least of my worries, I think, as I roll backwards and a silvery blade slices into the table an inch from my face. Crap, crap, crap...

I'm not one to give up without a bit of a conflict, though, so I thrust myself upwards onto the balls of my feet in one fluid movement, kicking her midriff as hard as I possibly can. She gasps, winded, and staggers backwards. I take that moment of safety to rebalance, assess her attack, and plan around it.

With a whistling sound like the very air is screaming in agony, those blades are rushing past my face again, but I'm dodging just in time. Reaching out with lightening Kingsman reflexes, I wrap my hands around her thigh and pull hard in the opposite direction. 

"Good, use the momentum against her-" Merlin encourages. I roll my eyes and mute the feed in the same movement. Enough for now.

Unbalanced, Gazelle hits the floor again with an angry noise somewhere between a feral growl and an angry snarl. "Bitch!" she hisses, twisting round to claw at me with razor-sharp nails. I feel her catch my arm, the sudden warmth of blood running down my elbow. Ouch. I press down hard on her leg, which is currently bent behind her, earning a pained little scream and redoubled efforts to tear me to pieces.

I don't know how much longer I can hold on to her like this, and I don't much want to imagine what she'll do when I let go.

"Now that just ain't nice." says a wonderfully familiar voice from behind me, as Eggsy hops over the table nimbly to drag her off me by the throat. I scramble to my feet once more in a rather undignified manner and walk over to her, struggling violently in Eggsy's grip. 

"Amnesia dart?" he suggests, tightening his hold around her neck. She stops thrashing and starts making little choking sounds. "Nope." I reply, grinning as the wound on my arm continues to flow. "I'm going to enjoy doing this the old fashioned way."

So Eggsy holds her up and smiles at me, as I clench my fist and punch Gazelle in the face as hard as I possibly can. I can't resist a smirk as she slumps to the floor, unconscious and with a newly broken nose. 

"Time to go." he says. "Have you turned your comm back on?"

As he says it, I sigh and flick on my glasses with a gentle tap to the lens. And then the shouting starts. 

"-COULD HAVE DIED, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS? UNBELIEVABLE-"  
"-Harry? What-"  
"-I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ASHAMED OF ANOTHER AGENT'S CONDUCT IN THE FIELD! I SWEAR, THE MOMENT I HAVE YOU BACK AT HQ I WILL-"  
"'Arry, I get you're mad an' all, but can we at least get outta here before ya scream our ears out?" Eggsy butts in helpfully, wincing and rubbing at the right side of his jaw, just below his glasses.

"Right." Harry says, sounding livid. "Go. Now. We need to regroup and decide what we are doing next."  
"Change of plan." another, extremely English voice suddenly interrupts. "You're coming home tonight."  
"Arthur?" I ask, surprised and a little confused. "What-"  
"The mission has been compromised." he says simply, sounding strained. "You, Galahad and Eggsy will fly home tonight and be in London by morning for a debrief. Then, we'll talk about what else is to come with regards to Valentine."  
"But..." I begin, staring down at Gazelle in bewildered disappointment. "No buts." His voice becomes rapidly more urgent. "Chloe, I am forbidding you to continue your search of this building. Don't touch anything, don't look at anything, just leave now. You and Eggsy are not safe."

I look across at Eggsy and frown, my mind racing. This doesn't make sense. "Yes, Sir." I reply, not meaning it at all, and my comrade echoes me. When the familiar click of Arthur signing off breaks the silence, we both mute our glasses feed both ways and look at each other. "This ain't right." he says, glaring around him at the ornately decorated room. I have to agree. "I know."  
"Time to go, then? We've gotta meet 'Arry." 

I take a step towards the door, and then in my peripheral vision something shifts slightly. The draught from my movement ruffles a loose sheet of paper I haven't noticed before, sitting on a small side table as if someone had forgotten to pick it up. I glance at Eggsy, nod, and grab it just as we start to hear a commotion down the hallway. People shouting to each other, rapid footsteps. 

Bugger. 

"Time to go, Guinevere. Now. Arthur don't want any more hassle than he has to get from this mission." Eggsy repeats.

"I'll follow." I shove the paper into my pocket without reading it, instinct telling me it's important somehow, and sprint after Eggsy. He hurtles to the door and through it, down the corridor the left, careering around a corner, and then pausing at a window I haven't seen before. "Come on." he says, opening it in one fluid motion. "We can reach ground level by climbin' on this brickwork. Some Italian can't make a wall for shit." 

He flings himself out of the open space in the next breath, climbing down the uneven stone surface like a little monkey. I wait for him to get low enough for me to do the same, glancing up along the corridor.

I meet Valentine's eye as he walks out of a door, further down the hall. He stares, and immediately I feel unclean. Repulsed. He is reptilian monster of a man. 

He looks taken aback to see me, angry almost, but mostly frightened. Coward. 

Just as Eggsy whistles up quietly to let me know I can leave, I fix Valentine with a gaze of pure hatred. He winks at me, grins a foul smile, and goes back into the room he just left.

I have no time to follow, no time to wonder why he taunted me. I merely slip out of the window, still agile but far less instinctive than the previous assailant. Eggsy has this knack for just going with it. If he puts out his hand, there just IS something for him to grab onto. He's that kind of person.

It takes me 49 seconds to reach ground level from the third storey window- so what if Eggsy did it in 39? In that time, I decide not to mention seeing Valentine to the others. It's not worth the aggravation it would cause. 

Speaking of aggravation, Harry is waiting for us down another alleyway- this place is full of them- and he calls us into the dark confines of it with the ominous beckoning of a father about to begin a lecture. We start to move as fast as we can in the direction of the Gondolier and our luggage. "What were you thinking?" he hisses at me, after a moment of painful silence.  
I snap. "I was thinking about how useful it would be to infiltrate the building Valentine was in!"  
"Well, now the mission is over before it ever truly began, and we have nothing to show for it!"  
"Nothin' expect a kiss." Eggsy mutters under his breath. Harry and I turn, mid-walking, to give him an evil look- and he wisely shuts his mouth.

A sudden shout behind us spurs us into action, and we glanced back as one to see a couple of suited thugs approaching us at a violent speed. Instantly, all three of us burst into a powerful sprint. 

Flat out, I'm the outright fastest, but Eggsy has almost got me with his sheer agility, negotiating the tight corners and obstacles- and annoyingly enough for a 52 year old, Harry's stamina beats mine any day of the week. We run and run, hands on weapons in our pockets and up our sleeves, hearing the shouting behind us get further away. 

The last corner of the journey is taken at a ridiculous pace, three pairs of leather oxfords almost sparking on the cobbles, as we turn to face the hotel. As my body twists to get around the house in the way, the paper in my pocket crumples against my leg, and I remember it is there. 

We skid to a halt, breathing heavily, as I pull out the paper and begin to read. The words baffle me, the sheer scale of it incomprehensible. 

V-Day.  
SIM cards.  
Manipulation.  
Public.  
Death.  
Downfall.

An acrid smell finds my nose, as I distract myself with Valentine's plan, carelessly left out on a table. I wonder if I was meant to see it? Is this why he was smiling?

I skim it in seconds, feeling almost nauseous with revulsion, until I reach the final sentence and my heart stops. No. No, it can't be. Not him. 

"Chloe." Harry breathes beside me. "Look."

I glance up, my eyes suddenly stinging, and gasp in horror. The astringent smell has a place now.

Directly in front of us, flames are engulfing The Gondolier, climbing high into the mid-afternoon Italian sky. A crowd has gathered in front of the burning building, throwing buckets of water at the flames as they slowly but surely die down. I can't see Carlo, but I can hear him weeping somewhere in the crowd.

No. THIS is why Valentine was smiling.

We're in way over our heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that, cubs! I know the ending was a bit... Yeah... But I'll save the day next chapter and it'll be a bit happier, vixen's honour. Please comment and leave a kudos to let me know what you thought- every kudos raised goes towards building Carlo a new hotel.
> 
> (I am so evil. I'll update soon, cubs! Xxx)


	12. False Friends And Loyal Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you read a list from the enemy, and recognise a friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs! I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update, but it's been very busy in my studies at the moment so I've been trying to keep on top of everything. 
> 
> I will update very soon (I've already written most of the next chapter) and I hope you all enjoy it! There should be around 3 more chapters to come and then there will be more works in this series, so don't fret- Chloe and Harry have a long way to go yet!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

The words on the paper are burning me just as much as the flames are devouring the hotel, but I can't find anything to say about it. How do I turn to Harry, to Eggsy, their horrified faces as they watch the pyre, and effectively destroy everything they hold dear?

The words that finally escape me take me by surprise. "We have to move. Now." My tone is forceful and cold- I have fully slipped into my killing mindset, remorseless and careless. Eggsy looks at me, almost bewildered, and nods once. His eyes seem broken, as if his appearance is unchanged whilst his soul shatters. 

Harry breaks the silence a second time. "Yes. Go." 

He turns and disappears down a side alleyway, melting into a shadow like he never even existed. Eggsy follows blindly, still not accepting what has happened here. I watch them go first, before glancing back once at the hotel.

A hand on my shoulder makes me start and turn to face the person touching me. Carlo has tears running down his cheeks and I can't think of anything better to do than embrace him. "Bella..." he sobs quietly into my shoulder. "Carlo, I'm so sorry." I reply gently, hugging him tightly. He shakes a little, as I hold him, and then suddenly pulls me very close to his face. I am slightly taken aback, but there is no emotion in his voice as he whispers sharply in his thick accent, "My name is Carlo Rossi and I am with the Italian Kingsmen. Your Merlin set me to take care of you as you investigated Valentine."  
I exhale slowly, wondering if I should be concerned that I'm not surprised. "Nice acting, then. The hotel?"  
"Kingsmen bought it a couple of years ago as a safe house. I'll cry a little longer and then go back to our HQ- I don't run hotels for a living, as a fact."

I pull back to look at him properly. "Carlo." I say in a low whisper. "The Ambassador is dead, isn't he?"  
"Not dead." he murmurs, masterfully looking as if he's overcome by emotion. "Missing. Valentine has him too."  
"Shit." I hiss. "He's got everyone!"  
"Chloe." Carlo says urgently, glancing into the alleyway behind me through a haze of well-orchestrated tears. "This goes deeper than you know."  
"I found a list." I say unexpectedly, not sure if I should be telling him. He nods curtly once. "And the person on that list that is bothering you... He became known to us for it only today." His eyes grow interested and sympathetic. It looks odd on a crying man. "He almost raised you, didn't he?" he asks quietly.  
"Carlo, I trusted him with everything I had, and he made me. Now this... This is huge. This could end everything." I swallow hard. "And I'm on my own, aren't I?"  
"We are the Italian branch, we have no jurisdiction in your country. If he is as corrupt as he seems, you will have to deal with him there." I nod once. 

"Good luck rebuilding the hotel." I reply, louder and more emotively. "I hope everything works out for you."  
"Good luck, mia bella." Carlo replies meaningfully. "Good luck in finding the right path, no matter what stands in your way."

Or who, I think wryly, as I turn and melt into the shadows just as easily as my fellow Kingsmen before me.

I don't say anything as I join them, just silently start moving as fast as I can in the opposite direction to the crowds around the hotel. "What now?" Eggsy asks, as he and Harry follow noiselessly. "This mission is a fucking mess." Harry says lividly, his eyes sparking with rage. "Two weeks in Venice just became three days of pure deceit and a disaster of epic proportions. Carlo lost his hotel, we lost our minds and Valentine lost fuck all!"  
"Carlo was with the Italian branch of Kingsmen, it wasn't his hotel." I mutter, unsure if he means I am deceptive or Valentine. I can only hope he's not comparing us. Harry just nods once, not seeming too upset by this revelation. "That's something, I suppose, but this was still a badly planned, ill-timed mess."

"Galahad, Guinevere, Eggsy." Merlin's voice crackles into life. We all adjust our glasses and carry on. "Present." Harry snaps. He glances across at me and I know the same anger at the world is visible in my eyes. "Present." Eggsy agrees quietly.  
"What the hell now, Merlin?" I ask, not bothering to confirm my existence.  
"Now, you have new objectives." The tech wizard sounds strained, I notice, as I share the glance with Eggsy too. "Go on." I prompt, suddenly exhausted.

"Galahad, you are going to Kentucky. There's a church that requires your immediate attention. We will brief you more as you travel, but for now follow my instructions and I'll guide you to a safe house where you can pick up everything you will need."  
"Merlin, I don't-"  
"Arthur's orders." Merlin interrupts, sounding uncomfortable. I start to feel very uneasy. "What about us?" Eggsy puts in, frowning at the expression on my face. "You and Guinevere are coming back to London on the earliest flight possible." Merlin replies.  
"Arthur's orders?" I ask in a dull voice. Merlin sighs gently. "Yes." 

"Answer me this." I say quickly, before I can change my mind. "Was this mission really necessary?"  
"I... don't know." Merlin hedges uncertainly. "You haven't achieved much... But when we received the information that the Ambassador had been kidnapped, Arthur seemed... Fine. As if it wasn't such a big problem. I don't know if we're working around it or-"  
"It's fine, Merlin." That's all I need to hear.

"Guinevere, Eggsy, I'm sending you directions to a separate safe house where you can pick up some civilian clothes and plane tickets. Hurry."

Without so much as a farewell, Merlin is gone from Eggsy and I. Harry nods to himself in concentration, as my phone buzzes with the directions. "I go left here." Harry says, gesturing down the alleyway. "We go right." I whisper, staring at the screen as if it has betrayed me. Now, in this time of uncertainty and fear, I don't want to be separated from him. 

"Good luck, then, 'Arry. Show that church what a badass you are." Eggsy says, smiling softly at Harry. His mentor returns the smile fondly. "You too, Eggsy. Go and prove you are worthy of that rank." He looks at me. "Chloe." he says. I nod gently. 

"Stay safe." I tell him, more of an order than a request. Wordlessly, he reaches out for me and pulls me close. I rest my head against his shoulder as his strong arms envelop me, breathing in his cologne and feeling the tailored suit beneath my fingertips as he presses a gentle kiss to my hairline. I look up into his eyes and give him one quick, tender kiss, and then he is walking in the other direction, muttering to Merlin in his glasses as I watch him become part of the horizon. Eggsy puts a hand on my shoulder as if that is going to keep me steady. I only hope it does.

"Harry!" I call, unable to bear the silence. He turns, looking at me with sad, deep eyes. I swallow hard, and I finally say it. I say it with everything I have. "I love you!"  
"I love you too!" he replies, smiling, and then turns and hurries away. In a moment more, he turns a sharp corner and disappears from view. I have a hideous feeling that this is the last time I will see him, but I push it aside with a vengeance that I've never felt so strongly before. He can't die. I won't let him die. It's just a church, for the love of everything, he'll be fine.

I think about it, as Eggsy hurries me away too in the other direction, and decide that my problem lies with the reordering and spontaneity of my world.

Words hissed into a microphone will one day dictate whether we Kingsmen live or die. It doesn't bear thinking about.

 

Oxfords sounding sharp on the dry stone floor. Silken tie swishing past smooth lapels. Signet ring brushing the stones of the buildings beside us.

So now we have our orders. Whilst Galahad journeys to America, I will be heading home with Eggsy. I'm going to try and keep him out of this, because I'm damn sure it won't be pretty... but it has to be done.

That name- oh, that name. It'll haunt me forever. I will have to ask him.

I need to get back to London and ask Arthur why his name is quite clearly at the top of Valentine's list. 

There might be a reason for it, but I doubt it. After everything I've been through with that man, after everything he's done for me... He saved me from my mother, and I could never repay that debt. Can I believe that he would betray the whole of Kingsman- and the world- for his own gain? 

Yes. I hate to say it, but yes, I can. I could believe anything of Chester King? A man strong enough to wrest an second heir from the clutches of the late Lady Peacock-Cowen before she could self destruct is capable of doing anything he might want to do.

There was a time when I would have said I loved Chester. He was the parent figure I never had, after Father died and I was left to Mother's mercy for 7 years. Now... Now it all feels tarnished. Even my memories of new-found freedom are rotting and fraying at the edges.

If he knows I am coming for him, he should definitely think about hiding his crown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cubs!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that! Please comment down below with what you thought, it won't take long and means the world to me! Furthermore, kudos is always appreciated xx
> 
> Updates soon to follow!
> 
> Love you all, and I'll see you soon!


	13. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every Kingsman has a reason for joining. Chloe's is her childhood, and the kindly uncle figure who dragged her away from it before her cold upbringing could consume her. 
> 
> And now that uncle is a traitor and she doesn't know how she ever trusted him.

I do something I promised myself I'd never do again, on the journey home. I retreat into myself, a mere shell of a human being, not bothering to talk or interact with anyone. I've told Eggsy the story (of the first- and only- time I've done this apart from now), so he knows what is happening, and he's remarkably gentle with me. He gets me to the safe house and helps me carry my bags and makes sure we're safely on our plane in time for takeoff. The whole flight home is spent in silence, me staring out of the window, he watching a James Bond film. 

Part of me wants to shake off the crushing lowness that is creeping back into my mind, to steal one of Eggsy's earbuds and watch with him, critique all the fight scenes and laugh about how it's so different to how we secret agents really live- but I don't. I sit and I stare and when the plane lands I walk and I stare.

I am so lost in myself that Eggsy and I are in a black cab on the way to Kingsman HQ before I compute that we are home. I start to rehearse what I have to say to Arthur in my head. 

Chester, you know you've always been like an uncle to me? Well, now I feel like I have bad blood.

Chester, why does Valentine have your name on his list like some sick party invitation?

Chester, why are you being such a manipulative arsehole when the whole damn country was yours to begin with?

Because now I have nothing to hide behind, no hero to fight for, and I can feel the scared little girl creeping in again. I hate it. I can kill a terrible man with a paperclip, and feel no remorse, but take away my reason for killing him and the guilt drowns me. Even if I didn't believe the absolute necessity of some of the marks I've shot down over the years, I believed in Chester's judgement. And now, perhaps I've killed for nothing.

"Here?" The taxi driver asks, snapping me out of my haze. "Yeah, thanks, mate." Eggsy confirms, prodding me gently with one hand and paying the driver with the other. I glance up as I open the car door and step out, Kingsman HQ looking over me. A beacon of hope, the first place in my whole life I felt like I truly belonged, and I promise myself here and now that I will not let anyone take that from me.

Even the man who gave it to me in the first place.

Eggsy looks at me a little strangely as we walk into the building. I take a deep breath, turn to him and whisper into his ear. His eyes widen. "You're shitting me." he mutters, looking utterly stricken. "I wish I was." I reply under my breath. "Can you fix it for me?"  
"On it. Give me two minutes to round it all up." he assures me, just as Arthur walks into the foyer. "Eggsy, Guinevere! Welcome back. Now, Guinevere, I believe we have a debriefing scheduled? It's been a long and complicated mission for you."  
"Yes..." I say slowly. "It has."

So I merely nod to Eggsy, smile at Arthur and follow him through the corridors to his office. 

Slowly, of course. The journey takes us about two minutes.

I watch as he offers me a drink, waving his hand at a bottle on the bureau and nodding to the chair opposite his desk at the same time. "Whisky?" 

Take a deep breath, Guinevere. Remember the plan.

"Please." I accept simply, sitting where he indicated. "Special occasion?" He just chuckles. The sound sets my teeth on edge. "No, this isn't the good stuff, I'm afraid. However, it'll do for a welcome home drink, don't you think?" I force a smile onto my face and take the glass full of amber liquid he offers me. "I'm sure it's fine, thank you."

"There's something bothering you." he states lazily, sipping his drink contemplatively. I sigh, and take a mouthful of mine, feeling the liquid fire burn down my throat. "Yes."  
"What is it, Chloe? You can tell me anything, you know that." He becomes the favourite uncle persona I've always loved, the one who made me feel like my opinions actually mattered. I take a deep breath and watch his expression carefully, as he sets down his glass.

I can't resist. "Funny, isn't it?"  
"What is?"  
My words are honest and yet my voice does not betray me. "The first time you said that to me, I was 7, and I was crying. The second time you said that to me, I was sitting in this same chair and you were interviewing me for this job. So this is the third time, now. We've come full circle."  
"And here we are, indeed. So. The first time was Violet and Alexander's divorce. The second was an acceptance letter and a handshake. What is it now, Chloe?" He looks at me curiously. I just swallow hard, bracing myself for the moment I tear the very sky from above my own head. "I found a list, when I went into that building. Valentine's list." 

His glance is quick but carries all the guilt I could ever need, as if proof was necessary at this moment in time. "Oh?"  
"You know full well that your name was on it." I finish, eyes narrowing, fingers curling dangerously around my glass. Instantly, his whole demeanour changes. Something oily and just wrong creep in, as he leans forwards and steeples his fingers underneath his chin.  
"And if I do?"  
"You admit it?"

Chester King straightens his tie and then runs his hand across the new scar behind his ear. I can't believe I never noticed it before. The sunlight casts shadows through his fingers, making one half of his face look sinister. "I do."  
"You bastard." I say, my voice completely devoid of emotion for the moment. "You complete-"  
"-not so fast, my dear. Remember, you're a gentlemen."  
I take another sharp breath in through my teeth. "You're clearly not."  
"I'm with Valentine because he is right."

"You AGREE with that headcase?" I gasp incredulously, shaking my curls back from my face with one jerk of my chin. "He makes a valid point. Global warming is a serious issue and we have to combat it. Just a cull, like the badgers giving the cattle TB. So we stamp a few out."  
"... Stamp a few out?" I echo. He nods.

I explode.

"These 'few' are wives, fathers, siblings. They have partners and jobs and homes and pets. These people have lives, Chester! They aren't mere playthings!"  
"Chloe-"  
"Guinevere to you!"  
"Very well, Guinevere- just see reason. These people, they're just-"  
"Just." I repeat, disgusted. "Just what? Just commoners? Just ordinary people without a title or a load of money to their name? Most of them are worth ten of you, you disgusting animal. I can't stand the sight of you." I push my chair back a little so I'm not as close to him.

"So you will not join us?" he asks, his voice coloured with anger and displeasure. I shake my head emphatically. "Burn in hell."

What he says next is the worst thing he's said yet, for me. The cruelest thing.

"I should have left you to Violet." he spits viciously, and I stiffen, unable to reconcile those words with the kind gentleman who offered me a job at 17 and used to visit me in the holidays at my boarding school when nobody else bothered. "Do you mean that?"  
"Well, really- when your father died, and I promised him I would take care of you, I hoped for your loyalty, Guinevere. I am disappointed that you will not join me."

"Loyalty?" I am surprised the word doesn't burn his lips. "How can you say that? I've been faithful to you for 8 years, Chester, 8 years of service in the Kingsmen, following your every order! And you wish you'd left me to Mother?"  
"She drank too much and left you to raise yourself. The things she said after she'd been drinking could never hurt you in the way the rejection did, could they?" 

My chest tightens painfully at the memories. He does not relent. "The way she told you to your face that you were a disappointment, that she wished she had never had you? And now she's dead, so you'll never get the chance to show her what you were capable of. Is that why you were so eager to take on extra missions, Guinevere? Do my bidding? So you'd only disappoint one guardian?"

I am shaking by the time he is finished, and I hate it. But his words bring back other words, in a slurred woman's voice. I can remember being 7 years old, crouching behind a chair in the smaller library and reliving the words my Mother always spat at me. 

I'd be scared out of my wits, shaking at the angry footsteps approaching in the hall. I'd have said the wrong words in the wrong tone of voice, or I'd left a door open that she wanted shut, or not done something perfectly. So she'd scream at me and send me to bed without any dinner, telling me I was just like my father before she drained a bottle before bed. I loved him so much that I always held the memories close, like a protective blanket against the coldness of the parent who won custody. I idolised him.

My father?

My father.

Maybe I'm stronger than I thought. 

My reply is proud, the words never faltering, and I see Chester shrink before me. I know full well that he was always in the shadow of his best friend as they grew up, and now his best friend's daughter is putting him in the shade. "Perhaps I did disappoint my mother, but she had her own demons. I'll never forgive her, but that's done now. All that matters is that my father was never once disappointed in me, you odious little man. He was proud of everything I did and if you had anything but upperclass cobwebs in that nasty inbred head of yours, you would see why."

He seems to lose an inch in height and everything in personality, as the man who was on top becomes the man who is looking at those on top, wishing he could be better than he is. 

We are silent for a long moment, a wary young mongoose eyeing an old, irritably deadly cobra.

"My dear, I fear you have made one fatal mistake." he says eventually, seeming shaken. I narrow my eyes. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. A shiver runs down my spine. "That's a poison activator." I say dully. He merely nods at the two empty glasses of whisky on the table in front of us. "Your last mistake was trusting me." he says, smiling as he gains more confidence again. "You let Harry down very badly today. Galahad loses his Guinevere and what legacy do you leave? None. Nobody cares if you live or die."

I simply lean back in my chair and close my eyes. "Go ahead." I say quietly. Arthur looks surprised, even annoyed that I am not scared. "What?"  
"Go ahead." I repeat. And then I begin to recite my list. The one I was making clear in my head all through the journey here from Venice. Just names, clearly enunciated so that we can both hear them. Faces flash in front of my eyes, memories, and I am content. If I am to die now, I do not die alone.

Arthur's finger hovers uncertainly over the activator, signet ring glinting in the dim light. 

I begin to dream. 

Laughing in the tech lab. "Merlin." Training in the grounds. "Percival." 

His finger grows closer. 

Running through HQ's halls. "Eggsy."  
Standing up for each other. "Roxy." 

His fingertip skims the lever.

Throwing treats to my puppy. "Bear."  
Playing with my older sister, the lucky one who got out faster than me and made something of herself. "Elizabeth." 

He begins to compress the switch.

Falling completely and utterly in love. "Harry."

He presses it down and activates the poison. I smile softly to myself. "Harry, Harry, Harry..."  
"Ugh-!"

A soft choking noise shocks me into opening my eyes, just in time to see Chester's bulging. "You.. You..."  
"Not me." I reply, grinning broadly, as Eggsy opens the door and walks into the room. "Thing about us common types, Arthur- light fingered. I coated the rim of your glass in that stuff before ya even poured it. Merlin helped me configure the right dose and make sure your pen was the one to activate it. Percival made sure it was placed so that you'd pick the right glasses. We were all in on it- all in the space of 2 minutes."  
"You see?" I say conversationally, as he begins to gasp. "I said I wouldn't die alone."

I get up, squeezing Eggsy's hand quickly in thanks, and I'm almost at the door before he wheezes, "But Galahad will..."  
I freeze, the blood icing in my veins. No. Please. No. "What?"  
"The chips... Church... Valentine will activate them... He is going to die..."

I want to turn and put a bullet through Chester's head but as I think about it, the poison will be more painful. Eggsy grabs my hand. "We need to get hold of Harry." he says insistently, more to his earpiece and Merlin than me, pulling me towards the door. I nod, and we move like lightening through warm air. Rapid, violent, unpredictable. As I am disappearing through the door, I take one last look back at the man I trusted above all others, the man that took me from the misery of my childhood and made me a supposedly better person.

Or a murderer. But I'd rather not think of it like that. A Kingsman only condones the risking of a life to save another.

He begins to choke viciously, white foam coating his lips, panic etched into his eyes. I smile nastily. "Die now, old man. Die alone, and remember that if you'd chosen the right path, every Kingsman would have voluntarily taken a bullet for you before you got into this mess. We would have died for you."  
"Chloe-" he wheezes, hand outstretched, one last attempt to reach me. I slip through the door and leave him there to end, not bothering to look back. I don't ever want to hear him say my name again.

Now, all I have to do is stop Harry from getting to that church. 

Every second becomes a hideously shortened blink, rapid breaths and instants passing. I follow Eggsy out of the room, down the corridor to my office. Percival, Merlin and Gwaine wait there for us, a laptop set up, a Communication Link ready on my desk. 

Now all we have to do is try and reach Harry. I am beginning to worry that I am running out of time. 

Perhaps Galahad is running out of time.


	14. Ricochet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what happens in the church stays in the church... Or bleeds out on the steps?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise a happy ending, really I do...

"Roxy's on her way over there, but she's still a good hour out- she'll never reach him in time." Eggsy reports, stabbing his phone screen violently with a slightly shaking finger to end the call. He looks apprehensive to say the least. "If we can't stop him going in there-"  
"-We will." Merlin interrupts in an even steelier version of his voice, glaring at Eggsy as if he's done him a great injustice. "We have to."

"Right. Guinevere, try and contact him again, this should work." Gwaine prompts me, fiddling with some circuitry in the side of the fanciest radio in the world, courtesy of our tech wizard's ridiculous intolerance to boredom. Today of all days, the signals are going down, testament to Valentine's satellite rearrangements. That bastard. My throat tightens.

"Harry." I say urgently, frowning down at the blinking light on the Communication Link machine that tells me he should be hearing me. The video feed on the laptop shows him walking up the church steps, slow and deliberate. My tone grows more desperate as Eggsy's hand clamps down onto my shoulder like a vice to anchor me into reality. "Harry!"  
"Chloe?" his voice crackles slightly, but I can see his hand go up to his glasses in the feed as if he is trying to stabilise the connection. Behind me, Gwaine hisses in a sharp breath and Merlin starts tapping away at his phone, probably propositioning some unsuspecting telephone network so we can hear each other. 

"Harry, do not go into that church." I say as deliberately as I can, staring at the screen. He pauses at the door, his hand against the doorknob. This is it. His face creases a little in annoyance. "Chloe, I can't hear you- the signal isn't..."

"Harry, do not go into that church. No church. No church." I repeat desperately, as Merlin swears under his breath behind me. I turn to look at him and Gwaine, whose russet curls are quivering with the tension in his limbs. We agents might be cold and calculating, but when one of of own is in danger, something else takes over. I know how he feels.  
"No church?" Harry asks, his lovely deep eyes narrowing. I practically sob in relief. "No church." I affirm. "No church."  
"But, Arthur's orders-"  
"Traitor." I reply. "Traitor, traitor, traitor."  
Harry looks utterly disbelieving. "Arthur, a traitor? I don't believe it." 

"Shit." Eggsy says behind me. "We've got civilians moving in on him now."  
"Harry, please don't-" I start, but I don't get a chance to finish before three men and two women walk up to him. The audio crackles and hisses like a campfire but I just about pick up Harry explaining that he's a new worshipper, and yes he would love to sit with them. "No!" I gasp, staring at the screen in horror. "No church! Harry, don't go in there!"

"You'll have to explain this to me when I get back, Chloe, I think Merlin's latest tinkering with my glasses has buggered up the communications circuitry, but I promise I'll be fine. I'll be home soon."  
"Harry-" I choke, reaching out to the laptop screen as if I can grab him and pull him away, but I'm powerless to watch as he flips the glasses onto 'silent' by twisting a screw in the arm, and follows the worshippers inside.

A deathly silence follows in the office.

None of us want to admit that it's deathly, but we're all worried. 

"Shit." Eggsy repeats, severing the noiseless tension. Something warm and wet hits the back of my hand as it rests on the table top. I glance at it in surprise, the small droplet of warm water, and wonder what it is. It's only when it's joined by a second as it rolls off my nose that I realise I'm crying.

"Chloe," Gwaine tries. "He's a good agent, he's more than capable of..." His voice trails off weakly. I want to smile and thank him for his efforts but all we do is stare at the screen as Harry walks along and sits down in a pew near the front, listens to some extremely ignorant ranting, and frowns to himself. 

My heart is hurting now, unable to sustain the speed at which it is beating. My mouth is dry and my eyes are spilling over, constantly blurring the small screen that seems to be the only thing in my view. 

I don't focus as Harry puts a bigot in her place. I barely see him stand up and turn to leave the church. I can't compute the minute and a half of violence as something seems to flip inside their brains and he joins the worshippers in a horrendous brawl.

I don't understand as he goes to leave the church and meets a familiar face on the outside steps.

Valentine smiles, says something. Harry replies, Gazelle smirking at him. She mouths something, something about 'I'll get her next'. Harry's eyes narrow, his speech becoming more defensive and dismissive. 

My brain is still trying to catch up with what I'm seeing as Valentine pulls out a gun and shoots him in the head.

"No!" Eggsy shouts, his fingers digging into my shoulder. Gwaine lets out a terrible groan and sinks to his knees, letting his forehead rest on the desk in front of the monitor. Merlin makes a sound that is halfway between anticipation and grief, and leans back against the wall for support.

It takes me a moment to realise that not only am I crying, I am screaming, a horrible broken wail that cracks with the tears streaming down my face and the tremors that rack my body. All I can see is his body, slumped against the sidewalk, legs at an awkward angle and hair draped messily over the blood on his forehead.

Eggsy pulls my chair out from the desk a little, and throws his arms around me tightly. I just bury my head into his shoulder and scream, the tailored tweed muffling my sorrow. I scream and scream until my lungs give out and my head swims, Eggsy rocking me back and forth like a frightened child. 

All I can think is that Harry is gone.

"Roxy's there." Gwaine observes dully, as I raise my head and swallow laboriously with my raw throat. I watch as she sprints to my Knight's side and clasps her hand to her mouth to hold back her own tears. 

Merlin takes a shaky step forwards. "That was closer than I'd tried in testing, I only went up to 7 feet, but it worked at that point..." he begins hesitantly. "I don't know if it worked. The blood..."  
"What?" I rasp, looking up at him. I catch sight of my reflection in his glasses and wince. I'm a puffy mess of tears and red cheeks and curling hair.

"I... The reason the communications were playing up was because I was tinkering with his glasses the other day..."  
"And?" Eggsy prompts, squeezing me tight enough to hurt my shoulders. I'm glad of it, I can feel the hysteria building again. Merlin sighs, and looks at me with a kind of cautious hope in his eyes. I try to return the gaze, as he says,

"I was trying to make them bulletproof."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, cubs- over the next couple of days I'm going to tinker with the other fic in this collection, The Goodbye, to try and make it follow on from this storyline. I'll keep posting on this story until I reach the conclusion and then I'll add other fics to it in order to further document the progression of Harry and Chloe's relationship. I already have a Christmas special planned, and if there's anything else you'd like to see, please let me know. Love you, and I'll update soon! Xx :)


	15. Kingsmen Don't Live Or Die Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she feels alone, they're all there.

The next few minutes- or it could just as easily be hours- are lost on me. Someone, maybe Percival, carries me into a more comfortable study- it could be Gwaine's, he always had the nicest armchairs- and settles me onto a leather sofa with a thick blanket. I burrow into it until only my eyes and part of my cheeks are showing, so I don't have to pretend to smile at the news they're giving me. And that's where I stay.

I drift in and out, Eggsy's fingers stroking at my hair, hearing snippets of conversation around me and the odd face focusing in my field of vision. "He's going to be alright," Eggsy repeats, when it becomes apparent that Merlin's insistence isn't getting through to me. "Roxy's there now. She's got him. He's alive." I can't find the words to tell him that although he's my best friend, I can't believe a word he says, not until I can see Harry alive for myself. I've been lied to too many times today already.

I wait for the sense of relief that should wash over me, hearing that my- what are we? Lovestruck? Friends? Confused?

I settle on 'my Harry'. So my Harry is supposedly alive, Merlin's adjustments to the glasses absorbing the majority of the shock of the bullet. I suppose now I just have to wait for him to be flown back.

After an eternity, Merlin starts talking at the speed of light into his Comm, arranging a pilot to fly Harry home. I hear a faint buzz that sounds like Roxy's voice, for once agreeing with him. Apparently all it takes is a crisis to stop them bitching at each other. Percival leaves the room with the tech wizard, both of them discussing the best airport to fly Harry in to. They do me the courtesy of not looking at me so I don't have to try and illuminate my eyes. 

Even Gwaine, solid dependable Gwaine, merely pours a glass of water for me, puts it on the coffee table, and leaves. He does flash me a neutral half-smile, but that's the thing with Gwaine, he never expects anything in return. I'm sure he understands that I don't at all feel like smiling back. 

Then it's silent, and I sigh. I sound so like myself that I'm a little taken aback. Eggsy just sits on the floor by my head and leans back against the sofa cushions. I can smell the coconut of his shampoo- he argued it was a 'manly' fragrance, I recall, and I declined to comment. It's peaceful, and at some point I fall asleep.

When I wake up, Eggsy is gone, and there is no sunlight outside. The curtains haven't been drawn, so all I can see is the darkness of the night sky. Stars would be too much to ask for, apparently, the pollution of London isn't exactly helpful for seeing them. I just stretch, sit up, and mentally give myself a bollocking because what in hell was that? I've had the training, I've lost fellow agents right in front of me, and yet all it took was some bad news to reduce me to a gibbering wreck!

I shake it off. What else can I do?

Pattering out of the room: apparently someone changed me into a pair of pyjamas, and my feet are bare. I try to decide which of the other agents here would have had that task, as I walk down the corridor to Merlin's lab. There's a beautiful smell to them, all warmth and whisky and a hint of dry ginger. It takes me a moment to realise that these are Harry's, rolled up sleeves and trousers dragging on the ground, but they're beautifully soft pinstriped cotton. I make the quick decision that he's not getting them back.

I was in Gwaine's study, then, his name is engraved on the door. Personally, and much to his joy, I've always said I preferred Gwaine over his real name (which he hates). 

I walk into Merlin's lab, and he's asleep at his desk. That in itself is so surprising I actually run over and check he's still alive. Merlin is a machine, cool and efficient. When he's tired, he power naps like a demon. I don't think I've ever seen him sleep more than an hour at a time in the last 8 years!

"Chloe?" he mutters, sitting up and rubbing at the imprint his glasses left on the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, is he here?" I ask urgently, not bothering to wait for him to wake up. He swallows thickly and nods. "Yes, he got in about- wait, it's 1pm? I slept a while, then. He got in three hours ago."  
"Thank you. Room?"  
"Med 3. Although if he has any sense, he'll be sleeping off the headache." Merlin sinks his head back onto his folded arms and starts to take little fluttering breaths. Despite myself, I bend down and press a kiss to the top of his smooth head. He stiffens slightly, probably very surprised.

"Thank you, Merlin. You can be an arse sometimes, but you saved him. I owe you a great debt." When he replies, he sounds pleased. I think he's touched by the gesture. "Test that hover board for me at some point and we'll call it even."

I laugh, a quiet, genuine laugh, as I leave the room. "Does it work?"  
"Honestly, no, but I want to see you try it anyway."  
"I'll be back later, then." I promise.

Ignoring the soft slapping sounds my bare feet make against the cool stone tiles of the corridor, I literally sprint up the corridor, loose pyjamas flapping around my limbs. I pass Med 1 with its X-Ray machine, Med 2 with the MRI scanner (all built by Merlin, with some input from Gwaine, who trained as a doctor before joining Kingsman), and finally stop outside Med 3. Intensive care.

Not actually knowing what I'm going to find inside, I open the door and and say in a low, fond voice, "Hey, Harry. Long time, no see." 

He glances up at me through a haze of thick bandages and concussion, and manages a tiny smile. His soft brown eyes, though foggy with pain and the resultant morphine, seem to light up just the tiniest amount. "Quite." 

He pats the edge of his bed with his left hand, so I patter in and gently take a seat beside him on the side he indicates. "Those are my pyjamas." he says, wincing as some unforeseen pain shoots through him. I try not to look as stricken as I feel.

"Yes, but never mind that now. What's this I hear about you getting shot?"


	16. When Stars Align (You Caught Them In Your Eyes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you for following this, for reading, and for sharing the journey of Guinevere and Galahad with me. This is the final chapter in this particular fic, but I'm going to charter their lives in this series, and I have a very special Christmas story planned that will be going up around Christmas for you. Trust me, this isn't the last you'll see of Guinevere and Galahad!
> 
> "We lived, and that's always been the main thing."

The bed gives softly beneath me as I shift on the edge, trying not to stir it too much and cause him any pain. We both sit there in silence for a moment, contemplating the events of the past week.

"Well, look at us." I say eventually, looking down at Harry and trying to drink in the way his cheeks are a little flushed, the way his soft brown eyes shine. It's probably fever or something, but in my eyes it's life. It's knowing that he isn't one more corpse I used to love.

"Hmm." His voice is more of a mumble than anything, no doubt concussion setting in. "Does... Does it hurt?" I ask tentatively, looking at the floor. He looks at me quizzically, as if he's trying to work out what I'm thinking, and then manages a small smile. "Not as much as it did, but it's not exactly pleasant."  
I don't know what to say to that. I half-extend my hand, as if to touch his chest, and then pull it close to my side again. I don't know where he stands anymore either, and I certainly don't want to pressure an injured man into feeling like he has to make any decisions. Not now.

Harry looks at me again, now almost surprised, with a hint of hurt. I don't understand. "Remind me never to go on 'holiday' with you again." he says, in the most serious tone I've ever heard him take. "Two weeks in Venice on a routine mission becomes three days of insanity and then the whole agency crumbling in on itself?"  
I have no idea whether he is being serious, but I decide not to take offence. "Hey, I can't be to blame for all of it!"  
"Hmm." His eyes sparkle, so I'm fine.  
"... Maybe most of it, but that's as far as I'm prepared to go."

I catch his eye and suddenly we're both smiling. "It wasn't your fault at all, really. I've been informed that Chester is no longer our leader?" He seems inquisitive enough that I know he's been told most of it, and he wants the full story. I sigh. I suppose I'll have to tell him at some point, anyway. "Yes, I killed him." 

Harry nods. "Merlin told me earlier. Apparently it was quite the theatrical display, all told." I just shrug slightly, trying to pretend I'm not glowing at the barely disguised praise. And then feeling ever so slightly strange that I'm being praised for murdering someone. "Maybe, but I was just glad when it was over. As much as I despised him for what he'd done, he was the reason I got into Kingsman. He was my father's best friend."

Harry's expression changes. It is not unreadable, but I don't want to delve too much into it. "I didn't know that."  
"Of course you didn't, I never told you."  
He frowns just a little, as best he can with a heavily bandaged head. "Did anyone know?"  
"Merlin did." I admit. "He was the one who recruited me. Chester promised he would get me out, when I was little. And he did, I was recruited a couple of months after I left home when I was 18. He practically raised me."

Slowly, as if he isn't sure what I'm going to do about it, Harry extends his hand. Palm up, on the pristine white bedsheets, an offer of comfort and solidarity. After a long moment, I take it, and curl my fingers into his.

"I'm sorry it took me so long." he says, looking up at me earnestly. "Harry, you're concussed." I reply softly. "Don't make decisions now."  
"And if I want to?" he asks, brown eyes widening beneath the bruised forehead. "Then..." I swallow. "I suppose I would have to listen to what you wanted."

He smiles, and the pain seems instantly replaced by something I can only describe as happiness. "Very well, then. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to bring you a cup of tea in bed, because I know how much you hate mornings. I want to take that bloody dog of yours out for runs with you, because I swear one day I will train him not to shred my trouser legs when he sees me- and Roxy won't have to watch him anymore for you, because I will. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and stroke your hair, because it always look so soft. I want to watch your eyes light up and I promise you I will do my very best to make that happen."  
"Harry." I say, my voice thickening. I've dreamed of this moment for so long, but my imagination could never do it justice. "Chloe," he continues, growing bolder. "I want to grow old with you. I realise now that the age gap doesn't matter, as long as we are happy. You can make me young and I'll make you old, between us it will work. I don't care about that ridiculous dog- as much as I love Bear, there is a certain absurdity to an overweight corgi- and I don't mind that you doubt yourself all the time. I will make it my mission to reassure you. I want to share your life, your bed ns your heart, until the moment mine stops beating."

He pauses, as if giving me time to say something, but I have no words.

"So." he says, after a moment, carefully watching my face. "That's what I want. What do you want?"  
"You." I reply simply, smiling. "Only you, always you."  
"Well, then." Harry says, his eyes illuminated in a way that could put any star to shame. "I despise the word 'girlfriend', it's so trivial- so would you be my partner, Chloe? My equal? Because you have always deserved that. Someone who could recognise your power without trying to crush it."

I laugh, a truly happy laugh, and lift our interlocked hands to press gently kisses to his fingertips. 

"I'd like nothing more." I say between kisses.

And from that moment on, life begins.

I didn't realise till later on that Merlin, Roxy and Eggsy were listening in at the door. Believe me, I got my own back.

I won't say that they all lived happily ever after, because that's not what Kingsmen do.

But we lived, and that's always been the main thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all so very much!
> 
> Okay, I think it would be prudent to note that after this fic ends, Harry becomes the new Arthur, Eggsy is accepted into Kingsman permanently as well as Roxy (his rank is as yet unclear, I'll work on that). Also, Chloe and Eggsy manage to get Merlin and Roxy together (I'll elaborate on that at a later date!), Harry moves in with Chloe and her 'ridiculous dog'- and they're all really rather happy. That is pretty much the set-up for the next fic I have planned. 
> 
> So for all you Roxy/Merlin shippers, that's to come too x
> 
> Thank you once more for reading!
> 
> If there's anything in particular you'd like to see in future Guinevere/Galahad fics in this series (I'm hoping to do lots!) please let me know and I'll see what I can do. I hope you enjoy it, and please don't go anywhere- new story coming at Christmas!
> 
> Merry December for now, cubs, and may your Kingsmen be merry and bright xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Well, cubs, I hope you enjoyed that! Please leave a comment telling me what you thought (because for all I know, I'm the only one who's going to enjoy this)... And kudos is always very much appreciated. Thank you for making a vixen's day!
> 
> Love you all, and I'll update soon :)


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